A King's Queen
by Tigress in da room
Summary: it has been 2 years since Pitch was 'defeated'. now his life is grinding to a halt and he has no idea what to do with himself. he pines for a woman whose face he does not know, and if he does not find her, the evil he works for will redouble it's efforts to quash Earth's hope. can Pitch lay aside his nature and look to the higher things before it's too late? slash/BlackIce/Pitchxoc
1. Chapter 1

A King's Queen: Chapter 1: Soap Bubbles

For Pitch, life was running fairly smoothly. It had been a good 2 years since the Guardians had 'defeated' him. But Pitch knew he was right: as long as there was fear in this world, he would always exist.

The King of Nightmares was currently giving the world a rest from his merciless tirade of bad dreams and various hauntings. The tall, grey man was in one of his many various mansions dotted around the globe. This one in the high reaches of Tibet was one of his favourites, as it was unreachable, cold and yet still incredibly beautiful and well kept.

Pitch had slipped out of his usual dark cloak and robe, this time favouring a loose, black t shirt and cotton cargo pants. If asked, he would always say that the human clothes were simple and ill made, but he would never admit to the fact that he actually found them really quite comfortable.

He was standing by the front of an enormous long window, which stretched from floor to ceiling and right across the front of the 'ruined' palace. The inside was dark, but Pitch still watched the bright yet damp rainforest valley below with interest. The moist clouds that rolled down from his mountain drenched the forest in the valley, and the bright rainforest became even brighter, a collection of emeralds and other jewels in the pocket of the rugged, high mountain range.

Pitch nursed a heavy tumbler of whisky, and he sipped from it as a pair of brightly colored birds flitted past him.

Contrary to belief, Pitch wasn't all for fighting. Granted, he had attempted to teach the Guardians a lesson and had been soundly beaten, but he knew that ultimately he had still won. He thrived on fear, and this world was full of it.

The man with skin like ash also knew that he had a higher purpose. He wasn't sure what, but he knew that there was a reason he cast shadows and fears into other's minds. Why he had to. Pitch did not question this; rather he simply got on with his job, much like the other spirits.

But not even Pitch, the Boogieman, had the power to be everywhere and in everyone's minds at once. But he didn't need to. The sparser the images he projected, the more powerful they became.

_After all, _he thought,_ if I gave everyone Nightmares every minute of the day, they would cease to be important._

He could feel that there was more to this theory, but the idea was currently too big and delicate to think about. It was like a soap bubble, if he thought about it directly, it would burst.

And Pitch dearly wanted to see this particular soap bubble swell.

But thinking about things he could not fully think about made him restless, and the spirit downed the last of his whisky with a sneer, and smashed the glass half heartedly just because he could.

He strode through the shadowy halls of his palace, and emerged onto a field so high up that it was above the clouds, and Pitch looked down on the incredibly clear world with disdain. Just because he had to make misery didn't mean he always enjoyed it.

Increasingly often, Pitch was finding sparks of disappointment with his existence, but whenever he tried to resist this…_purpose_… he became flighty and confused and strained, as if he was holding a weight too heavy and the sudden relief of setting it down came in the form of his casting of Nightmares.

The King was rapidly becoming tired of this uncertainty over his life; he did what he needed to and yet felt guilty and dissatisfied, and when he ignored his calling he fell into a state that can only be described as sickness.

But for today, he did not feel the tug of evil and he was free do…whatever he could do when he didn't have to be out on the prowl.

That was another thing. For hundreds of years, Pitch had had these periods where the call and draw of the night wasn't deep in his heart and he was free to do what he wished. But still, after all this time, he had not yet found something which he felt was both suitable and constructive.

The closest he had come was to be inspecting and caring for his Nightmares.

The spirit strode out onto the long, dancing grass with purpose, to a couple of Nightmares.

The horses were beautiful in his eyes. They stepped with delicate grace and power, had shining coats that streamed and rippled with shadows and they were tall, strong and lean.

They too did not always feel the call and draw of the evil they were bound to.

The two dark horses had their heads bent to the lush grass; their red eyes were not alight with evil and anger, so they appeared peaceful and rested. This was, however, Pitch's opinion once more.

He stepped up to one of the incredible beasts, and slowly patted and stroked her neck. The muscle flickered beneath his palm, and her gleaming black grey coat rippled, shedding a light cloud of that grey dust that settled constantly upon their hides. The dust glittered briefly in the cloudy sunlight, and then disappeared.

The Nightmare King often liked to think that it was all the imperfections and flaws of their former mortal equine selves that they were shaking off. He did not know if they would actually revert back to the normal horses he was sure they came from if they did not shake the dust off, but Pitch certainly found it interesting to think about.

Over the years, Pitch had set up a tentative truce with the Guardians. He could not be bothered to fight with all his power every time he saw them, and they knew that he could never really be defeated. So the awkward stalemate had slowly blossomed into a fragile friendship. At least with one of the guardians.

With nothing to do outside of wintertime, Jack Frost had become a relatively frequent visitor to Pitch.

_Well, not really a visitor_ he thought.

_Jack usually just turns up at one of my dwellings, taking pot luck as to whether I'll be there or not_.

Even so, pitch enjoyed these little visits. And despite the fact he felt the rhythm and purpose of his life slipping now and then, and more frequently so; Pitch also was satisfied with how he currently lived his life.

On the days Jack had visited, and he was particularly upset over one thing or another, Pitch had been there for him. He didn't actually give a damn about Jack's life, but he did feel upset when Jack was sad.

So he would sit and listen to Jack as he told his tales of woe, and even tolerated the hugs that these tales would be accompanied by. Pitch had grown to appreciate, and even to some extent enjoy these hugs from the winter spirit.

And more often than not, Jack's outpouring of love and confusion and general emotions that caused mirrors within Pitch led to awkward and rushed kisses.

And Pitch was willing to let Jack love him, and be loved, to make him feel better. The love was never rough, Pitch was sure of that, but he felt that his relationship with Jack was confused.

He loved him very dearly, loathed though he was to admit this, but more as a friend and almost a brother than anything else. Pitch simply did not like men in the same way he was sure Jack did (even though he had never stated his standing on this matter).

Pitch always made an exception for the young frost boy though. He had endured enough pain, some of which at Pitch's hands.

He hated how the draw of casting nightmares was random and more than once had felt his hand forced in the matter of souring Jack's dreams. Despite this, Pitch still let Jack love him and he always would. But he knew that their relationship would never grow; Pitch had no feelings of true, lustful love for Jack, and they were both too different and busy to make time for the other.

But Pitch knew that Jack was happy with how things were, and they both wanted it to stay this way.

Even through all this turmoil and confused emotions, Pitch could still feel he was lacking something. He felt a call and draw, but not to evil and nightmares.

Pitch needed someone.

He needed his woman.

But he had no idea where, when and how to begin looking for her.

So as his life crumbled around him, Pitch continued to stroke the neck of his Nightmare in the damp sunlight, and he watched his soap bubbles of ideas swell.

And he decided to wait for this woman.

Hoping, hoping that she might show herself to him.

_I need you_ he thought.

And the grass around him danced, waiting.

Just like the Nightmare King.

**AN: so I feel where I ended this, it could have been left as a one-shot, but I want to make this multi chapter. I will put in smut, and I will put in smut with Jack Frost.**

**But I think we all know that a King needs his Queen. So I'm gonna pair Pitch with a girl anyways :D**

**Please review, favourite, follow etc,**

**Tigress in Da room**

**Ps; first guardians fic, don't hate, flame blah blah blah etc.**


	2. A King's Queen: Chapter 2: Whisperings

A King's Queen: Chapter 2: Whisperings

Waiting. Pitch seemed to be doing a lot of it these days. He was waiting for anything. Anything at all.

But for a week now, he had not felt that call, that evil drawing him to cast his nightmares. He was waiting for the woman. He was waiting for Jack.

He was waiting for everything.

Pitch was getting impatient. Without the call to create Nightmares, he had nothing to do. Without this...woman...he was waiting for, he had no one to love. And without Jack, he had no one to talk to.

_And of course _he thought_, this all boils down to me having no purpose._

Pitch was once more in his field, running his narrow hands through the long, shining shadows that laced his Nightmares coats.

As much as he hated to, Pitch had attempted to cast Nightmares without the call and draw that tugged him to his targets. Whereas he used to be able to cast these powers without a requirement to do so, now his sand simply blew harmlessly from pillows unless he was under this calling's influence.

The lithe, ashen man tightened his fingers in the shadows as this recent development frustrated him.

Now apparently he was losing his powers. He knew that the Guardians would rejoice in this, but he knew that if he lost his power to project Nightmares, all sorts of bad things in the world would happen.

On a whim, he vaulted up onto the back of his tall Nightmare, and a saddle and reins morphed from the black sand that he could conjure from thin air.

_Yes. This is right. This is what I am meant to do. If only I knew why_.

He sat there for a moment. Feeling the Nightmare's muscles rippling and checking themselves slowly. Hearing how she pawed the grass impatiently. Her deep, slow breaths.

He took a deep breath, and smelt the crisp grass and freshly cut earth. The dusty, warm smell of the Nightmares. The acrid, metallic tang of the reins he ran through his hands.

He had had an affinity with horses before. He could tell that much by the way he had always known how to hold himself on the saddle, and what all the little tugs of a rein and nudges of a knee could make a good horse do. But the memory was always just out of reach. Another thing that frustrated the Nightmare King.

All of the things that were hindering him, angering him. Pitch felt them bubbling and roiling in his chest. With a deep breath, he tugged upon the reins and dug the spurs of his riding boots into the Nightmare's flanks.

As he knew she would, she leapt forwards and sprinted clean and powerful across the field. With something akin to adrenaline singing in his blood, Pitch grinned like a maniac as he lent forwards in the saddle, moulding himself to this perfect, beautiful creature.

He did not even falter in his saddle as the Nightmare plunged of the sharp face of the cliff.

With another dig of his spurs, the Nightmare kicked forwards even more, and shadows streamed of her back legs, still firing in perfect time as if she were running upon solid ground. They lifted up into the clean, mountain air and within seconds of having mounted the creature, Pitch had her dancing and leaping and sprinting through the air.

As the shadows fluttered and weaved behind them, they fell away into black sand and Pitch felt all his simmering anger melting away, if only for this precious few minutes.

He closed his golden eyes, and tilted his head back, letting the wind rifle through his dark hair.

He let go of the reins, and threw his arms out wide to encompass the world around him.

With her blood up now, the Nightmare continued to gallop tirelessly across the tops of the clouds.

And for the first time in a long time, Pitch smiled.

Just because he felt the need to.

No smiling of malice. No smiling for Jack.

No, this was one of those very rare moments when Pitch felt as if he was slipping the yoke of darkness for a moment, and the light he felt across his cheekbones almost touched the inside of him.

And the King of Darkness almost became a creature of the light.

But something always ruined the moment.

With all the power of a beam of fire, Pitch felt the heat on his back as if someone was staring at him.

This panicked him greatly, as he, the Boogieman, was supposed to be the one to cause unwanted feelings of being watched.

He seized the reins, and turned the Nightmare upon a pinpoint. They wheeled around, but no one was there. Full of anxiety, Pitch spurred his mount back to the field and she touched her hooves down delicately upon the swaying grass.

Now feeling safe upon solid ground, Pitch dismounted with a hunter's grace, and led his Nightmare back over to the herd. The saddle and reins of shadows disappeared beneath his grey hands, and he ran his palms through the Nightmare's ruffled coat, as if he were brushing her down.

With a light slap upon her rump, she disappeared into the middle of the herd, and Pitch watched them with satisfaction as they ran a circuit of the field, all grace and darkness, before skittering to a halt and bowing their heads to the emerald grass once more.

As Pitch watched them, his observant gaze missed nothing.

One particular Nightmare, close to Pitch, nosed around in the rich loam. And as her long black mane folded down to the ground, a glint of silver caught his eye.

He strode over to her, and with a few calming strokes, lifted the metal thing from over her head.

In his hands was a beautifully crafted silver chain, the links gleaming brightly, with pendant of a beautifully carved sapphire turning in the sun.

As the navy facets divided the light into Pitch's gold eyes, he felt rather than saw the chain shrink down until it was as narrow as a hair and fit to be the size that might fit a young human girl.

Having nowhere else to put it, Pitch slipped it around his neck and tucked it underneath his shirt.

With a spark of curiosity lighting his eyes, and the Nightmare's power still humming in his blood, Pitch walked back inside his palace to peruse his enormous library.

He wanted to know whose necklace this was and why he had it.

As he strode down the dark halls, shadows accompanying his long strides, he only just heard the low, tinkling laughter.

But when he turned around, an arrow of dark ready to fire, there was nothing there.

The Nightmare King growled at the shadows and tricks he used to command now turning against him.

**AN: Pitch gets frustrated and goes for a ride. But his own shadows haunt him, and he is given this strange necklace.**

**Curious? Please review, your guys' thoughts are worth their weight in gold to me, and I won't continue this story unless I'm getting some sort of interest.**

**In the next chapter, Pitch continues to be stalked by this entity, and he gets a visit from Jack. (Review nicely and I might put some smut in :D)**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	3. Chapter 3:A gift of Heartsong

A King's Queen: Chapter 3: A Gift of Heartsong.

Pitch stalked through the corridors and passageways faster. He summoned his sand-scythe just because he could, and he kept the glittering black blade light in his hand. The silence around him deepened, and he still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

But the sapphire bumped encouragingly against his chest with each step, and he made good time to the library.

The doors were, unsurprisingly, a deep glossy black, and the highly polished black metal of the bolts bars and other various struts that adorn old doors glowed and danced a bright red like the coals of a fire.

Pitch put his palm against the keyhole and carefully blew a little black sand into it. The lock clicked happily, and the doors swung open silently on well oiled hinges.

The Nightmare King had not visited this wing in a long time, and the air was stale, cold and damp. Despite being a creature of darkness, Pitch was not one of cold and he preferred being warm as to being cold.

_Excluding Jack, of course_ he thought (fondly, but he would never admit this)

So Pitch rubbed his hands with glee and knelt before the enormous, dark hearth. He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew into them, slowly opening his fingers as he did so. A liquid, curling tongue of flame escaped and quickly lapped at the dry tinder and wood that Pitch always kept the hearth stocked with.

Within a minute or so, Pitch had the fire crackling and spitting into the old chimney, and the stale air around him began to warm to what he considered an acceptable temperature. Pitch rose swiftly and with some of those bolts of dark that he was so good at using, he lit the tips and fired the flaming arrows of shadow into the pans hanging from the ceiling. As each dish filled with fire, the library turned from complete darkness to that cosy, old kind of light that flickered and be read by, yet still left plenty of shadows.

Pitch was never comfortable without a few shadows.

The circular room was very tall, and the domed ceiling was only a few metres beneath the peak of the mountain.

The floor beneath Pitch's booted feet was cold and hard, but instead of uneven stone was paved by large tiles of dark slate.

Pitch had shamelessly stolen several large rugs and such to litter across the floor to save his feet from being chilled and these stolen rugs were topped with shamelessly stolen leather arm chairs. Floor lamps that Pitch had stolen also crackled welcomingly with fire.

The circular lounge was surrounded by towering bookshelves, the dark teak stained with age. These shelves lifted right to the top of the domed ceiling, which had a particularly impressive chandelier covered with ancient Tibetan symbols and curves that Pitch was proud to say had been left perfect like this when he found it. The shelves went up so high that there were several silver plated ladders on rails to access them with. Pitch found it much more satisfying to glide to whatever book he required on a cloud of dark sand though.

He did just this, tendrils and ribbons of shadow tying themselves about his feet and he slowly lifted into the air. As he was hovering, Pitch removed the necklace and set it down upon it's own cloud of hovering sand.

The dark grains turned and shifted the sapphire pendant around lovingly, and it shimmered and danced in the firelight.

Pitch murmured to himself, as he scanned the spines of the old tomes thoughtfully.

After a few minutes of browsing this innermost ring of shelves, Pitch selected a couple of books on ancient Scandinavian and Nordic jewellery and talismans before gliding right over the top shelf and scanning the second ring of book shelves.

As he perused the old titles, some in languages he had no name for but could still read, he plucked out books on various culture's traditional jewellery and talismans.

Once his arms were full of books, from all around the world, Pitch was struggling a little. He constantly had to replace them as they slid out from underneath his chin and if he tried to put them on a sand cloud, he knew he would drop them all.

So with some considerable difficulty, he made his way back to the lounge area, planning to set some of the tomes upon an empty shelf. But as he hovered blindly through the gaps between shelves, Pitch was startled by something he was not expecting to hear.

Beneath the hearty crackles and spits of the fires, there was a low and quiet melody. The notes picked up and dropped like a bird in flight and it took Pitch a moment to place the melancholy wails as notes tickled carefully from a violin.

As the beautiful music reached a crescendo, it suddenly stopped, with the last drawn out note ringing in the air like an echo. As he moved forwards, Pitch tried to filter out the noise of the fire and the spirit could swear that he heard one single, quiet feminine sob.

He had once heard such a sound come from Jack (only once), but he had no idea that the boy could play a violin.

He finally touched down upon the floor and Pitch hurriedly set the books down on a chair before he dropped them. He turned around, expecting to see Jack crying quietly with the violin tucked beneath his chin, but there was no frost spirit there.

There was, however, a violin.

It was lain down upon the large teak desk that Pitch sometimes made use of, but it was nothing like any instrument the King had ever seen.

The wood was a dark grey, polished to such a shine that the highlights upon it were shining mirrors of silver. The scrolled tip was of dark ebony, and the strings were so fine he could not see them unless he tilted them into the light, at which point they glittered like a spider web covered in dew.

The bow was right next to it, and it felt warm and supple between Pitch's fingers.

All in all, the violin was much darker and finely curved and tooled than any of it's normal counterparts.

Knowing that it would do no harm, Pitch curiously settled the violin beneath his chin and rested the bow lightly and delicately upon the strings.

He adjusted them slightly and slowly drew the bow across. He grimaced, expecting an awful screech, but instead the instrument produced a sweet, buttery note that Pitch could only describe as moving through the air like smoked honey.

He had no idea which note he had played, or how he knew how to play the violin, but it seemed as natural to him as riding. Suddenly suspicious of this new development, Pitch swiftly but carefully put the violin back down and growled to himself as he dove back into the shelves, this time for volumes pertaining to string instruments.

Pitch would be damned if he would let this…_secret admirer_…leave him gifts that he could not understand.

**AN: so Pitch continues to receive gifts from someone. He has forgotten them actually…or is it Loss?**

**Review for more :D**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	4. Chapter 4: Visiting

A King's Queen: Chapter 4: Visiting

Pitch had read through all of the volumes he had that contained the word 'jewellery' or 'violin' at least twice, but he still had no name or place of origin for these gifts.

There were several reoccurrences throughout history however that briefly mentioned either object, but never a name. The information seemed to be teasing him; flitting away just out of reach. Pitch felt as if he should already know the names, but he could not remember them.

This place, as much as he loved it, felt contaminated to the Nightmare King. He did not know with what, but he gathered up all his books into a sand cloud and slipped the necklace back over his head.

He kept the violin and it's bow close to his chest, for he did not want to squash such a beautiful and undoubtedly delicate object. He moved through a shadow and appeared back in front of the long window that opened out onto his Nightmare's field.

As he walked out onto the soft grass, Pitch once more felt that gaze boring into his back. But he couldn't ready a bolt of dark sand or summon his scythe because he was holding the violin.

So without looking back, he sprinted across the grass and leapt onto the back of one of his Nightmares. She startled slightly, but within seconds the saddle, stirrups and reins had materialised underneath him and he was ready to leave.

Because the Nightmare knew he was carrying more than he should, along with the saddle and tack a saddlebag had appeared. Pitch managed to kick the flap up, and he felt a few sharp grains of sand graze his cheek as they flew.

He dropped the violin and bow unceremoniously into the saddlebag and kicked the mare forward without any hand upon the reins. To keep himself balanced as she rocketed towards the cliff, Pitch made sure to rock his chest as he rode so he wasn't jarred from the saddle.

The wind whipped through his black hair as the Nightmare thundered onwards and Pitch lost his usual cool and calculating demeanour for moment when he let out a cry of laughter and exhilaration.

He glanced back to see that the Nightmare's lightning quick steps had nearly jarred the violin from the saddlebag, so he quickly reached back and did up the clasp. The Nightmare had fell into a good, steady rhythm now, so Pitch turned back once more and putting his fingers to his lips, gave a high clear whistle.

The Nightmares that remained on top of the cliff all snapped their heads to attention, ruby eyes sparkling curiously. Pitch whistled again and the herd all broke into a gallop without hesitation and plunged off the face of the cliff.

Pitch was mesmerized.

Their black manes danced and tossed in the wind, and their coats glittered and shone in the bright sunlight. The hooves flew like lightning and they didn't miss a beat as the sharp edges stopped digging into lush grass and began cutting cloud and air instead.

The herd moved and rose in the air as one. Their motions were made in synchrony and they skittered in the sky like a ribbon of silky shadow. Pitch spurred his own mare onwards before dropping the reins and forming his dark sand into his sceptre. He thrust the tip forwards into the shadow of a dark, bruise coloured cloud fat with rain and tore a portal open.

He kicked the Nightmare forwards once more, and now she began to run at nearly the speed of sound. Pitch leant forwards almost imperceptibly in the saddle, and he heard a sharp crack as they broke the sound barrier. The rest of the herd soon followed and the air was split and torn by all the booms and snaps as the other Nightmares also broke the sound barrier.

The portal loomed ahead, it's insides swirling and churning a rapid, dark purple and it's edges crackles with black lightning as space was stretched and torn to allow the Nightmare King to pass.

_Take me to Jack_ thought Pitch, as the Nightmare stretched he long neck and dove through the portal.

Pitch was encompassed by darkness and cold and sudden, pure silence. He could still feel the Nightmare beneath him thundering away, muscles snapping with strength, but he could not see her.

Just as Pitch's lungs were beginning to tighten from the lack of air, bright, dazzling daylight opened up around him and the King and his Nightmares were storming across the sky in broad daylight.

It warmed his grey skin, and Pitch closed his eyes with the pleasant sensation. The sun was warm on his face, but the air and wind were freezing cold.

Pitch seized the reins and leant forwards even more until he was almost lying across the Nightmare's muscular neck. She flowed downwards, and Pitch had to squint against the bright white snow that blew up into his eyes and the sunlight it reflected.

He suddenly tugged the reins upwards, leaning back with all his weight and the Nightmare came to a screeching halt, landing with a few loose steps in a large meadow covered in snow. Pitch knew that they were somewhere in the high reaches of Canada, and he vaulted neatly from the Nightmare's back.

His black leather riding boots landed with a soft thump into the fluffy but dense snow and Pitch removed the violin and bow from the Nightmare's saddlebag. He ran his hand above the saddle, and the tack dissolved away into his dark sand which dissipated quickly in the singing wind.

Pitch walked towards the snow clad pine forest, tucking the violin beneath his chin as he went.

With each brisk step, he drew the bow slowly across the strings and soon had an odd half-melody wailing and singing through the dense wood. The wind had died down now, and Pitch wandered aimlessly through the trees, knowing that he would get there when he got there.

He could hear the soft footfalls and heavy breaths behind him as his Nightmares followed through the thick pines.

Still he continued to play, and Pitch's muffled footfalls suddenly turned to sharp raps against solid ice.

With a flourish, Pitch drew one final wail from the violin and stood waiting.

The hunched figure sitting upon the iced over lake suddenly unfolded itself, and then Jack Frost stood, in all his snowy glory before the King of Nightmares.

His blue hoodie was frosted over, and his glacier blue eyes danced with happiness at seeing his friend-lover once more. The ice boy jogged over and gave Pitch a huge and unrestrained hug, which was gently returned.

'Pitch! It's so good to see you!'

Pitch just smiled with some warmth at Jack's enthusiasm, watching as his young face crinkled slightly in thought.

'But what are you doing here?'

Pitch didn't miss the tiny twitch of Jack's staff, as if he were thinking of wielding it, but the ice spirit seemed to think better of it.

In the end he shrugged, and made that sort of half skip, half dance across the slick ice, tapping his staff upon it, leaving perfect circles of frost upon the ice as he went. Pitch followed the curious young teen as he turned and frosted the ice with something that can only be described as grace.

'I was actually hoping you might be able to help me with something'

Jack immediately turned, his blue eyes glinting with mirth and mischief.

'Not that you naughty boy!' Pitch laughed, though leaving the suggestion hanging upon the crisp air.

Jack pouted in mock disappointment and bounded up to the tall King. He ran a hand across the violin, briefly misting it's surface;

'It has something to do with this, am I right?'

'Indeed you are Jack. I was left both this necklace' Pitch lifted the sapphire to show Jack,' and this curious violin'

Jack just looked at him blankly.

Pitch sighed and tucked the necklace back beneath his shirt.

'I was hoping you might be able to tell me where they came from, or if they have names'

Jack shrugged helplessly and danced back across the clear ice;

'I have no idea! You might be better to try and ask North' he suggested, voice carrying in the wintry air.

Jack turned to look back at Pitch, who was frowning in frustration and still managing to look incredulous at the same time.

Jack realised what he had said, and swiftly took the violin from Pitch's hands and removed the necklace from over his head.

With his arms full of silver, violin and staff, Jack took a few steps back before saying;

'It's ok. I'll go ask for you'

And with that, he sprinted a little and flew up into the air. As Jack sped off to wherever North had his hideout, Pitch pinched his brows tiredly, hoping that he could get back to his normal, evil life soon.

All this spare time was making the King uneasy.

As Jack became a speck in the bright sky, Pitch watched him and finally mounted up his Nightmare, tugging the reins in one hand and leaning back with all his weight. With a sharp cry and dig of his spurs, Pitch began to make his way back to his original lair nearby, watching for the sight of the comforting old bed frame.

And with that, the Boogieman made his getaway having shrugged the thing that was watching him

At least for now

**AN: so Pitch continues to look for answers and Jack becomes hopeful…**

**Smut in the next chapter, I promise!**

**Review for more :D**

**Tigress in Da Room**

**xxx**


	5. Chapter 5: Love Me While I Wait

A King's Queen: Chapter 5: Love me while I wait

The Nightmare King had long since found his old lair beneath the bed frame, but he had felt cooped up in the winding passages and halls.

So almost as soon as he had arrived, Pitch had saddled his Nightmare and rode his way back to Jack's lake. There he had waited, sitting with one leg crossed over the other on top of an old tree stump, reading.

With so many books to read, Pitch hadn't been bored for long. He was hoping to find some new fact; some fresh reference that he had missed earlier, but the origins of the necklace and violin remained elusive.

For hours the grey rider had sat, feeling the cold but not being affected by it.

The sun was just beginning to set, Pitch's favourite time of day, when Jack arrived. He had the necklace looped around his wrist and the violin and it's bow clutched in the same hand.

With a swift twirl of his staff, Jack landed in a little puff of snow and silently handed Pitch back the two mysterious objects. Jack then sat down on the spot, head in his hands.

Pitch watched the boy curiously.

'North had no idea where they were from' he said, without looking up.

'He seemed…nervous…about being around them. Like he was worried, angry, tired, sad and confused all at once. It was weird.'

Jack's words were muffled by the thick, fluffy snow that had silently begun to fall.

'Not even Tooth knew. This means none of the world's children have any idea either'

Pitch quietly got up and walked out onto the clear surface of the icy lake. He absently began to trace a path over the little spots of frost Jack had left earlier. For the time that it took Pitch to do this, Jack had fallen into a kind of daydreaming stupor, and Pitch had grown increasingly restless.

Jack looked up, watching through half-lidded eyes as Pitch tramped around, growling and sneering at things he didn't understand.

Jack didn't truly notice Pitch's aggravation until he had formed up a bolt of shadow sand and thrown it with complete accuracy into the tree stump that Jack was leaning on within the blink of an eye.

Jack startled and curled into a ball of lanky arms and legs, face frozen with fright.

When he eventually peeked up, Pitch hadn't moved from the pose he had thrown the bolt from; arm outstretched, one long leg slightly behind the other and all his weight thrown forward until his chest was parallel with the ground.

Pitch was breathing heavily, and when he realized just how close he had come to killing someone he could call his only friend.

As Pitch took a quick step back, losing the mental hold tying the grains of sand together and dissolving the shadow bolt instantly, his expression faltered and he quickly turned his back upon Jack, pinching his brows together and slumping his shoulders tiredly.

By now, Jack had recovered from his scare, and was walking cautiously towards the Nightmare King. He put a gentle hand upon Pitch's shoulder and said shoulder's owner gave one, long sigh.

'I'm so tired Jack. I haven't had to cast a Nightmare in almost 2 weeks and all this free time is beginning to weigh on me'

'It's ok. I've got nothing to do now that it's spring.'

Pitch laughed quietly to himself and sighed once more;

'Ah, what a pair we are Jack'

'What a pair indeed' Jack replied, gently turning Pitch's shoulder so that he faced him.

Jack looked into Pitch's golden eyes, and saw that they were glassy. But he knew the Boogieman couldn't truly cry, so he just let Pitch fall forward until they were in a close embrace. Pitch's breaths grew deep and slow, and unknown to Jack, a single tear crawled down the Nightmare King's cheek.

Jack slowly let Pitch pull away, but by then the tear was gone and Pitch's reputation remained intact. Jack let his hands rest lightly on Pitch's shoulders, just to make sure he was okay.

The King did not look okay though. He was worrying slightly at his lower lip and his eyes were downcast and dim. Jack put his finger beneath Pitch's chin and raised it, so that the King's dull eyes met Jack's fierce ones.

It hurt Jack to see all the fight gone from the King. He did not know why it was important for Pitch to be able to answer his calling, only knowing that it was all to do with balance and equal weights in the world.

So Jack attempted to rekindle the fire in Pitch's once bright eyes, so he boldly pushed up on his toes and fisted his hands in the collar of Pitch's shirt.

And kissed him.

The force of it rocked the King, and he staggered backwards slightly before regaining his balance and cupping his hands lightly behind Jack's head, running his soft white hair through his fingers.

Pitch let Jack pour himself into the kiss, letting him crush the fabric of his shirt and feeling from experience the tears that were leaking from the corners of his eyes. Pitch gently placed his tongue upon Jack's lip, not forcing it, but just giving a suggestion.

Jack gasped slightly, and Pitch sealed the distance because he wouldn't let anything, not even this lack of purpose that was haunting him, touch Jack, because Jack had gone through entirely too much pain to deserve that.

Now it was Pitch's turn to be fierce, because all the confusion and worry and sense of hopelessness were blown away by the fact that he had a friend, a friend who loved him dearly though it wasn't love and Pitch had to show Jack this.

So he thrust his tongue swiftly between Jack's parted lips, and the boy's grip in his collar went limp.

And oh, his mouth! Like the rest of Jack, his mouth was icy cold and Pitch shivered with a combination of desire, chills, and desperation. Jack whimpered slightly, and Pitch lost the little shred of confusion that he had been harbouring up until now, because that one tiny whimper gave him more purpose than he would ever need.

So Pitch growled softly into Jack's mouth, and then the rest of the boy went limp. Pitch caught his body swiftly in his strong arms, and held the teen tight.

'Damnit' Pitch muttered softly

'wha-' Jack was cut off, because instead of his lips, Pitch was kissing his neck, each spot feeling like a drop of lava upon his skin to Jack. And to Pitch, each kiss tasted like a drop of sugared snow. And now that he finally had something worthwhile to do, Pitch was damn well going to do it right.

Jack's hands were trembling now, shaking in the air as he searched for something, anything, to hold onto during this onslaught. Especially now that Pitch had worked his hand underneath his hoodie, and was now kissing the pale skin of his shoulder, gently sucking and drawing blood to the surface.

Each little kiss now left a tiny rose flush, and still Pitch didn't stop. With one hand tracing aimless patterns over Jack's back and the other slowly but surely tugging down the hoodie's zip, Jack was helpless but to stand there and be seduced.

But for a brief moment, his nerve cells picked up their function and he managed to grasp a hand in Pitch's dark hair, and he held on tight. Pitch felt the hand fisting desperately in his hair and he smirked to himself as the hoodie finally came free.

With a small but insistent push, Pitch slid the blue fabric from Jack's slender shoulders and each bit of alabaster skin that was exposed was rewarded with more of those gentle kisses. Pitch now circled his arms fully around the cold, slender body he was tasked with and Jack now had to bite back full, gasping moans.

But Pitch could sense this and swapped tactics. Now he began to nip, each dig of his sharp teeth earning him a shiver and a gasp. Pitch smirked at this also.

And his grin only widened when he felt Jack shakily popping the buttons of his shirt open.

Now that Jack had apparently regained some of his mental faculties, Pitch abandoned Jack's skin and instead focused back on his mouth.

But Jack was determined to give Pitch something back. Whilst he battled the quick nips on his lip and the skilful tongue battling with his own, he focused upon stopping his hands from shaking and helping Pitch shed the black silk shirt he was wearing. Each button slipped open, and eventually, he, Jack Frost, had the Nightmare King almost undone.

Pitch was stood there, shirt hanging open, ashen chest exposed to the cold. His chest was heaving for air, and his lips were dark and swollen.

The tall hunter's eyes were dark and lust-blown. He looked like a lion ready to pounce.

_Two can play at this game_ Jack thought.

He quickly attached his lips to that spot beneath the King's ear, just where he knew he could get a hoarse, croaking whisper from. As Pitch began to cuss in what sounded like Gaelic, Jack moved on.

He ran his cold hands over Pitch's searing grey skin, all over his lithe back and strong chest. His hands traced their way down, down, until his fingers bumped against the tight leather riding trousers Pitch had elected to wear that day. Jack thought they looked incredible.

He slid his hands beneath the supple leather, chilling the skin as he went. He ghosted over the firm muscle of Pitch's behind, instead hooking his fingers in the waist and helping the King shimmy them down to the cool ice.

But to Pitch everything felt like ice. Jack's wonderfully soft hands, the lake, the air.

Not letting up one bit, Jack continued his ministrations, tugging more insistently upon the leather when it caught on something Jack had a growing interest in.

Eventually, the snag sprang free, but Jack steadfastedly ignored it, just ghosting his cold breath over the hot flesh, dragging the leather down to the ice. Pitch impatiently hauled off his boots and kicked and tripped over his trousers in his hurry to get them off.

As soon as he had stopped stumbling around upon the slick lake however, Jack started to breathe and lick his way all over Pitch's impressively long legs, like those of a young colt.

Each cold lave of the tongue or puff of breath made Pitch shiver and he groaned fully out loud when Jack swallowed him up with all the cold of a snowstorm. The frost boy expertly bobbed and dipped his head, and etched icy patterns into the hard, ash flesh. He hummed a happy little tune as he worked, but Pitch disapproved;

'Don't hum Christmas carols while you work boy!' but it would have sounded a lot more convincing if his voice hadn't been low and husky with need.

He let Jack undo him a little more, but after another minute of this torture, Pitch could take it no longer. He quickly but gently removed Jack from his suckling, and pushed on his shoulders till his knees hit the ice.

The hard rap made him startle, but then he realised that Pitch had simply magicked his trousers away. The King then turned him around and began to kiss over all the skin he had just revealed to the air.

The feeling of showering in lava returned to Jack, and he moaned heatedly. His breaths were shallow and desperate, and he gasped when Pitch bit neatly in the muscle of his butt.

But then the scalding tongue disappeared for a moment, but soon the pleasure returned, this time on the form of two long and slender fingers, slick with the same lava that had been doused over his back earlier.

The heat nudged at his circle, and Jack relaxed the muscle to let the fingers pass. He almost came right then, with the hot solid digits inside him and Pitch nipping at his ear.

Pitch briefly worked Jack a little, but he was too desperate to tease the poor boy tonight.

He swiftly slicked himself, and rested his hands upon Jack's slender hips. With one long, slow push, he embedded himself in the ice and began to move in the same way as if he were riding.

Jack felt the older spirit behind him move with swift, strong rocking motions and Jack's vision blurred. Pitch knew just how to move his muscles as one, and with one particular movement hit a spot deep inside the ice boy that had the snowflakes falling before his eyes turning into stars.

At the same time, Pitch swiftly began to tug at his own manhood and that was all it took for Jack to come, his thick white essence folding in waves over the grey man's hand.

This burst of cold brought on Pitch's own orgasm and with one or two more erratic thrusts into Jack's clenching muscles and he too was coming with a strangled cry.

He felt all his muscles go taut and his bones sang with the release.

Jack felt his core be painted with heat and fire and he collapsed onto the ice, trying to feel something that wasn't so beautifully devastating to his senses.

Pitch also collapsed, but backwards, so he tugged Jack into his lap as he sat backwards and the two stayed bonded like that for a while.

But eventually Pitch came back to his senses and he kissed and nipped gently behind the Guardian's ear.

Jack laughed, but let him continue.

'Thank you for loving me while I wait'

Jack wondered slightly at this phrase, but then his still dizzied form was clothed and so was Pitch and Jack watched as he mounted his Nightmare and she reared up rebelliously.

Jack sighed happily as the Nightmare King thundered off into the night, a combination of his laughter and a thank you dancing upon the wind.

_I suppose a King changes as fast as his shadows_ thought the frost spirit dreamily.

And thus Jack picked up his staff and dance-skipped happily across the ice.

Then the air.

And finally, off and up into the sky.

The next day, the children of Manhattan enjoyed 2 feet of snow to play in.

Courtesy of one thoroughly laid Jack Frost.

**AN: Yay smutty love time for Pitch and Jack. I know I said I wouldn't write any until I got a review, but I was hoping this might stimulate some of my readers (not just like that, you naughty people O.o)**

**Pleeeaaaase review, **

**Tigress in Da Room.**

**PS: shout out to Artemis Queen of the Night, Broken Thought Of One, Nausicaa of the Spirits, PredGal and gypsyking0134 for favouriting, you guys are amazing! ;D**

**And a quick shout out to CRAZY-STORY-13, Kyracat, LePyronness, PredGal, asnanime and gypsyking0134 for following, you guys are awesome also :D**


	6. Chapter 6: Lone Rider

A King's Queen: Chapter 6: Lone Rider

Pitch had felt bad to leave Jack the way he had, but it was for a good reason.

For the first time in 2 weeks, Pitch had felt the call and draw. He couldn't yet tell if it was to cause Nightmares, for he was not near enough to his target, but he wasn't about to pass up the chance to feel purpose again for the sake of some cuddling with Jack.

So Pitch drove his Nightmare onwards, not sitting fully in the saddle for speed's sake. He lay close to the mare's thunderous muscles, and he held the reins bunched up tightly to his chest. With hundreds of years of experience, Pitch rocked his body in perfect time with the Nightmare's thundering hooves and so it only took a tiny dig of spurs to jump her forwards and through the sound barrier.

Because he had been in such a hurry to leave, Pitch hadn't allowed the Nightmare to rush off and up into the sky. No, instead they had skimmed the tops of the trees and now her hooves fell to the beat barely above an unending stretch of flat snow, as far as the eye could see.

Pitch had to squint his eyes against the wind now, but he could tell by the strange colours and patterns of the light around him that such patterns of green and blue were also folding in silky waves in the dark sky. Something the humans liked to call Northern Lights.

But he still had to go faster. Pitch was too tightly bound to the saddle by gravity now to spur the mare onwards, so instead he drove her forwards with thought.

Now going so fast as to have his eyes almost completely shut, Pitch could just see that the coloured snow around him had blurred into one expanse of colour and he almost missed the dark blip in the landscape completely.

But with a rider's instincts, and despite running at nearly half the speed of light, Pitch still hauled up on the reins and the mare reared up, hooves slicing the icy air.

With an indignant whinny she set down again, and began pawing at the snow with heavy, storm-filled breaths. Pitch sat up straighter in the saddle, and lifted his hand to shield his eyes against the bright, colourful glare of the snow.

It was already miles away, but the blip remained. He wasn't sure if it was a trick of the Lights, but Pitch could have sworn that the dark shape was getting bigger.

Still holding his hand to his brow, Pitch seized the reins and eased the Nightmare into a steady canter. Even through the rocking motions of his vision caused by the mare's rocking gait, he could still tell that the thing was drawing nearer.

Too curious to notice the sudden ease of the calling, Pitch stilled the mare and waited. It seemed to be moving fairly slowly, so Pitch checked on the violin in the saddle bag. He had been fast enough this time to actually close the bag before setting off so the instrument was safe. And the heavy sapphire felt cold against his chest.

With the objects in safe keeping, Pitch turned his attention to the dark shape on the horizon once more. Now it was close enough that he could make out 4 legs, a tail and there was something else, something that he couldn't quite see yet.

Unconsciously, Pitch moved the mare forwards a little, and as his sense of depth perception left briefly because of the motion, Pitch was almost blasted straight off his mount.

The wall of air hit him like a freight train.

The huge, dark shape stormed past and Pitch looked after it dizzily to see his herd of Nightmares get spooked and skitter out of the way. Whatever it was, Pitch could now hear it's roaring breaths through the ringing of his ears and more on instinct than anything else, seized the mare's reins and leant backwards sharply.

The already frightened Nightmare leapt forwards, too distressed to see that she was thundering after what she was supposed to be running from. Pitch too had gotten over his fright, and was now leaning back into the saddle with sinewy ease. One swift kick of spurs and for the second time that night Pitch broke the sound barrier.

He still struggled to keep up with the shape, but eventually he drew near enough to see two hind legs firing and digging into the endless snow. But the muscles were too compacted, and the hooves to small for it to be a horse.

Then, in a sudden moment of realisation, Pitch placed the whirring, fluffed up tail to be that of a wolf.

The wolf was huge though, at least the size of a Nightmare, if not bigger. Pitch spurred the mare onwards, and the spray of snow began to sting at Pitch's face. The wolf still plunged onwards, white paws and the angled part of his leg striking across the land.

In the light of the Aurora though, Pitch could see that his tawny fur was tipped with black, and each flex of the creature's muscles sent waves of black rippling across it's skin as the movement rippled the hairs.

And Pitch also noticed that it moved with an economy, still grace and power, but no little flicks and flourishes that held no purpose, in the way that his own mare strove beneath him.

But atop the striding wolf was a billowing black cloak, which was torn back so tightly in the wind it stood out almost straight.

In the purple-green lights from the sky, Pitch caught one fleeting glimpse of something he would not expect to see upon a wolf.

Across the rippling fur and muscle, a long, dark grey leg and fine bare foot were thrown almost casually. But the tense of the muscles and curve of the bones told Pitch that this was a very experienced rider.

And that this rider was also a woman.

Now overwhelmed by his curiosity, Pitch swerved the mare out to the right and forwards until he was riding alongside the mysterious woman.

_She is like a wolf herself_ he thought dimly.

Her long, lithe back was curved low and sleek to the wolf's own, which bent in rhythmic exertion.

Underneath the cloak, her leg seemed endless, rounding off in a curved thigh and trim behind.

He could see her arms, bent close to her head, elegant hands clutching tightly at the fur on the wolf's shoulders.

But her face was hidden from him. The voluminous hood of her cloak was pulled forwards, and Pitch was certain she could hear him. He felt a little insulted that she did not even turn her head to look at him, so he filled his lungs and shouted to her:

'Lone rider! What is your purpose here?"

Still she did not slow, but as his lungs heaved for air, she turned her head to him, though the hood kept her face in full shadow.

Pitch saw he shoulders shake once, twice, with mirth, before she moved her head slightly, ever so slightly, so that the hood moved.

He saw her lips. So dark against her cold grey skin that they were almost black. And like the rest of her, they were long and curvaceous.

Her chin was sharp, and her face slim and angular, with cheekbones so sharp and slanted Pitch thought they might cut.

But she gave him a smirk, her glossy lip pulling at one corner, showing him a long, curved white fang and rows of straight white teeth.

The smirk became a full blown grin, and the impossibly long fangs of this sabre-woman glinted moistly in the starlight.

Pitch, by now, had lost all hope of a complete facial expression and his mouth hung open slightly. But he managed to ask, demand, of her one more thing:

'Answer the question wolf-woman!' his voice was low and desperate, made hoarse by the cold winter air that endlessly rushed into his lungs.

She cocked her head slightly and laughed one low, little laugh that's should have been torn away on the wind, and said, as if it should have been obvious;

'Me? I am here to _race_!' and with that, she set her sights in front once more and with sharp, canine growl-cry, drove the wolf forwards until she was a dark shape once more, and appeared to be everywhere and nowhere in the infinite night.

With one last kick of a snowy paw, the wolf vanished and Pitch was left to wheel his mare around in the flurries of snow.

As the mare stumbled and whickered in confusion, he muttered to himself;

'Who are you, Lone Rider?'

But all he got in answer was a dark, smoky laugh upon the sprinting wind.

**AN: So has Pitch found her? The woman who he is drawn to? Also, I wrote this because I know some of my readers want Pitch to be with Jack, but A. this is my fic, I write it how I like, and B. Pitch and Jack are polar opposites; one a creature of dark, the other a Guardian of light and good. They can't be together properly; it's like trying to mix oil and water.**

**So, this chapter was to sway you in the Queen's favour, elise-hale913, who very kindly was the first of you to review :D**

**A free dance lesson with the Nightmare King to the next person to review ;D**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	7. Chapter 7: Nightmares, Whiskey and Women

**AN: Quick note to one of my readers (elise-hale913 *cough*), I told you I could make you swap allegiances to the Queen ;D wolves work wonders :D**

A King's Queen: Chapter 7: Nightmares, Whiskey and Women.

As frustrated as Pitch was, he continued to get on with his confused life.

After the Lone Rider had disappeared, Pitch spurred his Nightmare onwards and back to the old lair. It was not in as good keeping as the one in the high reaches of Tibet, but Pitch was too consumed by his thoughts to care much for the peeling paint and cracked stone.

Pitch had moved into one of the many halls that lay close to the surface. There was a great wide hole in the ceiling, and the forest above continuously rained leaves and various vines and creepers into the enormous sinkhole.

The rough black stone was moist, and Pitch was particularly fond of this hall as it had a wide, dark pond at it's bottom instead of sharp stone. This pond was fed by the relatively small, but strong, waterfall that poured over the edge of the sinkhole from the little river that cut through the forest.

There was a little dock of driftwood poking out into the water, and it was on the end of this uneven and green with age structure that Pitch sat, his legs hanging off the edge. His toes nearly touched the mirrored surface, and the steamy spray of the waterfall on the other side of the pond put drops of crisp water in his hair and eyelashes.

As the leaves from above twisted down through the fog rising up, Pitch absentmindedly skipped stones across the flat of the pond. As the ripples from each speeding rock slipped outwards, Pitch continued to muddle through his thoughts with little success at bringing them to order.

_Why do I not feel the call and draw any longer? This bout of…Freedom…is getting on my nerves._

But still the grey man sat, shoulders hunched, as he morosely launched pebbles into the abyss.

_And why must I cast Nightmares anyway? I see reason behind it other than pure evil and hatred. And we all know how that ended up for me_ he thought bitterly.

_Perhaps I was right in thinking that it all has to do with balance. If only I could figure out why…_

His brow furrowed as the rising tide of if's and why's rolled sickeningly in his skull.

Pitch was almost too caught up in his own head that he nearly did not notice his perfect mirror image in the lake dim and fog slightly. As he linked in confusion, the flat water became smoky and frosted and had very quickly iced over completely.

The King's golden eyes snapped up, and in the middle of the lake sat a small box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. Pitch walked out across the ice and picked up the package before returning to the little jetty.

As soon as he had snapped the twine though, the lake melted and soon the din of the waterfall reined once more.

Pitch curiously opened the paper, and found a little note of parchment folded up on top of the box. On the front of it, in glittering blue ink and a slanting script was the simple statement;

'_to Pitch'_

The Boogeyman unfolded the note and scanned the brief letter;

'_I'm sorry I couldn't help you with the necklace and violin, Pitch. Like I say, none of the other Guardians had any idea where they were from, but this isn't what I wrote to you for. A day ago, whislt on his rounds, Sandy caught sight of a big, blurred shape racing across the prairies of North America. it was going too fast for him to see it properly, but he could tell that the thing was an animal of some kind and that it had a rider. We know it wasn't you because it didn't leave a sand trail. _

_We were hoping you might know who or what this thing was, and that if you do, you might want to share what you know._

_From,_

_Jack Frost._

_PS; I know you don't feel the need to drink often, but I managed to sneak this out of North's drinks cabinet without him noticing. Hope you enjoy it.'_

Pitch was unsure whether he wanted to tell Jack that he had seen the Lone Rider, because he felt she was his little secret. And other than the fact that she was obviously female, and rode a large wolf, Pitch knew as much as the Guardians did right now.

So he folded the parchment back up and tucked it in the pocket of his riding breeches.

With a flick of a sharp nail, Pitch opened up the box and he whistled in approval at the large bottle of aged whiskey that shone a bright, dark honey in the misted sunlight.

He popped the cork and took a long swig of the fiery drink. As it burnt down his throat, Pitch coughed slightly at the strength of it and said to himself with surprise;

'wow. Jack really knows how to get a hold of the good stuff'

And with that, the spirit toasted to his own helpless situation and drank himself silly.

~0O0~

Pitch was aware of the strange effects that alcohol had upon an immortal's body, so when he felt the heavy pulse behind his eyes like a strong heartbeat, he was pretty sure there had been something other than whiskey in the heavy glass bottle.

Like proper hellfire Russian Vodka.

Pitch had been ceratin that with a job as stressful as his, North would have something he liked to dull the edge of stress with. But Pitch hadn't expected it to be quite such a knockout.

He wasn't exactly tipsy in the sense of the word, but as the amber liquid drained away, Pitch had felt all his worries drain away with it and he felt srong and emboldened by the strong alcohol.

With the heavy liquor singing in his blood, Pitch was particularly keen eyed and jumpy by now, so he snapped his eyes to the night sky when he felt that familiar tug in his chest.

As his eyes, pupils shrunk to pinpoints with the stimulant of the whiskey dancing in his nerves, skittered about his surroundings, Pitch practically jumped up to his feet.

_At last! It's time!_ He thought happily, having a true sense of purpose after two weeks of lethargy.

As he strode quickly out of the hall, he picked up his cloak from the stone floor and threw it about his shoulders, pinning it at the neck with a polished silver clasp in the shape of a sprinting horse.

He drew the long hood up over his face, and the point in front kept his eyes in shadow. Despite this, they still glowed the same bright amber that they usually did in the dark.

The knee high riding boots that the King wore clicked authoritatively against the rock and the loose black riding breeches that billowed out at the knee but became fitted at the waistband rippled with the rider's quick strides.

Pitch's Nightmare was already saddled by the tunnel entrance to the hall, and Pitch leapt up onto her back with adrenaline tinged power and practice.

With one sharp 'Hyaa!' and dig of the spurs, the Nightmare was galloping off, and up through the mist into the night.

It was time to make Nightmares.

~0O0~

For the whole of the night, Pitch cast hundreds of nightmares into the minds of sleeping children and adults alike. Everyone who was slumbering along the east coast of Canada and North America wasn't safe from the feelings of constricted breath and fleeting shadow.

As he struck across the stormy skies, throwing handfuls of shadow sand down onto the houses below, the nightmares took many forms.

For one young girl, the little rag doll she slept with came to life and slit her throat with nothing but a stitched grin. But she woke with the little doll, who had not slit any throats and looked as innocent as ever.

Another young child, this time a boy, watched his grandfather die, slowly consumed by fire and cancer. But when he woke, his grandfather was still snoring soundly in the next room.

As the night ticked on, Pitch was merciless. Armies of zombies, raging fires, mocking laughter all invaded the dreams of others, souring them and tying them in shadow. And all through the attack, Pitch had the same wild grin of _feeling_ and having _purpose_ at last plastered across his angular face.

And so, the bare-chested horseman and his billowing cloak leapt across the towns, leaving fear and shivers in their wake.

~0O0~

By the time Pitch was finished with his mischief and fright, the acohol in his sytem had worn off mostly and the bout of quick reflexes and strength had turned into something that just made him feel warm inside and dulled his quick instincts just a little.

So as the Nightmare settled into a steady pace, between a canter and a gallop, Pitch threw back his hood and held out his arms, letting the cool rain patter against his heated skin.

The Nightmare circled down through the mist of the waterfall hall at Pitch's lair and he opened his mouth a little to catch the cooling drops of water and slake his thirst.

With a little round of clicks, the Nightmare elegantly landed her sharp hooves upon the stone and Pitch vaulted neatly from her back. The King picked up his whiskey bottle, and placing the last few drops upon his tongue, floated the bottle out onto the lake where it eventually filled and sank.

Pitch was just walking through the tunnel into the corridor that led off to his bed chambers when he whirled around on the heel of his boot, instinctively forming up a sharp scythe of shadow sand.

He kept his step light and suspicious, and the sharp blade in his hand even lighter.

For on the other side of the pond's bank, Pitch saw something he had not expected to see for a long time.

It was the Lone Rider's wolf.

Pitch locked eyes with the enormous creature, but it was sitting up neatly with it's tail curled around it's legs. Pitch did not break his gaze, but the wolf merely looked back with what seemed like amusement.

Pitch made a small motion with the scythe, thinking perhaps he could scare the beast off. but it simply sat there, and flicked an ear nonchalantly.

Pitch still did not break his gaze, furrowing his brow over the wolf's prescence, but in response, it dipped it's head ever so lightly towards the tunnel Pitch had been about to walk into.

He nearly missed the tiny motion, but the Nightmare King still abandoned his fighting stance. Trying to save face, he shrugged off the wolf with a sneer and swaggered confidently back to the tunnel. As he moved into the shadows, Pitch glanced back, but the wolf was still watching with amusement.

Pitch twirled the sand scythe away, and made his way down the various passges until he found his bd chamber.

The spirit did not often feel the need to sleep, but after such a large quantity of alcohol, he wa feeling a little tired. And he wasn't entirely sure whether he would get a hangover or not, so he thought the best course of action was rest.

But when he pushed gently upon the door, and opened out into the dimly fire-lit room, Pitch gained his fighting stance and scythe back in a heartbeat.

_Idiot!_ He cursed himself mentally.

Because, leaning against the wall easily, sharpening her blade, was the Lone Rider.

She did not react in any way to Pitch's show of surprise.

She merely tileted her head in his direction, and curved those dark lips of hers into a smirk that, combined with her at ease posture, smacked of ;_ 'really?'_

Disappearing his blade, and returning to his usual tall and reserved stance, Pitch coughed a little to himself and said;

'if you're going to turn up uninvited, I would at least like to know your name'

With this said, Pitch made a show of turning and hanging his cloak up on a curved hook set into the wall. As he undid the pin and slipped the black fabric from his shoulders, Pitch heard the heavy greatsword being set down on it's point on the stone floor.

Her heard a rustle of fabric as she rolled her shoulders easily. Her reply was;

'so would I'

Pitch only turned his head over his shoulder as he questioned;

'I beg your pardon?'

He watched her smirk again, and she uncrossed those long legs and twirled the purple-grey blade on it's point. Pitch watched the sword instead of her as she said;

'you said you wanted my name. So do i. I don't know my name. At least at the moment.'

Pitch frowned questioningly at her, but she simply leaned into her hip and continued to twirl the sword. It was very long, a thing a human would wield with two hands. But Pitch somehow knew she could lift the great blade with one easy swing.

It was just as intriguing as her, he thought. The cold grey steel faded out to a purple-black at the keenly honed edges, and the broad point widened, then narrowed suddenly on both sides and continued straight down to the hilt. As if the sleek spearhead shape had had two rectangles taken out of it's sides near the tip.

The hilt was the black metal, and it's points were curved in wicked Gothic spear heads. The relatively short handle as wrapped with narrow black leather ties, one crossed over the other for grip.

It looked just as sleek and deadly as it's owner.

Now that she wasn't hurtling past at well past the speed of sound, he could appreciate her form a little better. Her narrow feet were bare, and fine boned, and around her ankle she wore a tight leather anklet with wolf teeth pushed through it. To her other calf, she had a dagger and sheath strapped. Pitch ran his eyes up those long, endless grey legs, the curves of bone and muscle suggesting both an elf and a wolf.

When he thought he would see some sort of skirt of pair of shorts, her skin continued up to hip bones that were subtle but sharp, and her whole body was clad in some shiny black thing that looked like _ah, what was was the word?...a swimming costume! That's it_.

This body-hugging suit was sleek and night black, and the neckline curved down into a neat little point between her perfect breasts. In the hollow of her throat, on a black choker, sat a round little purple gem, glittering in the firelight.

She had an archer's wrist guard on her left forearm and she wore a three fingered glove on her right hand, and it's tight fastener wrapped around the thin but strong wrist there. She had a long, sleek black bow slung over her back and a quiver of poisonous looking arrows at her hip. At the other hip, she had the sheath for the enormous sword she was twirling so easily.

And just under her beautifully sharp chin, was a silver clasp shaped like a running wolf, and then her face was in shadow. It was a very carefully crafted shadow, he noticed. The point of the dark ended at her nose, and curved in a subtle heart shape across her cheek bones. This shadow was caused by the hood of her voluminous black cloak, that reached her ankles. The hood was rounded out in a curve, so that it was full of shadow and the front of it came to a little point, just like the shadow on her face.

In the glittering firelight, he could not be sure, but Pitch was certain that the inside of her cloak was shimmering and glittering, lined with stars. As if it were made of a scrap of the night sky.

The Nightmare King took all of this in a heartbeat, but he knew she had not missed the quick glance to her…interesting body.

So after she had let him look, he could practically feel her lift a brow as if to say; 'Like what you see?'

Pitch's inner man growled a needy 'yes' but the rest of Pitch held him firmly in check. Deliberately thinking of the perpetually annoying Bunnymund to stop himself from showing his appreciation in an inappropriate way, Pitch raised his brow, silently asking her more about herself.

The Lone Rider sighed dramatically, and easily swinging the greatsword in a quick blur, slid it back into it's sheath. She walked over to the King in a way that can only be described as a cultured swagger and rested an elegant hand upon the sharp line of his jaw.

Pitch instinctively stiffened at her touch, but he held his gaze with where her eyes were in the shadow of her hood. In that same low, smoky voice, she said;

'you want my name? This is the closest I can give you.'

Pitch felt his already furrowed brow twitch slightly in confusion.

'in the same way that you are fear, I am Loss.'

'Loss?' he questioned, not believing her at all.

She shrugged, at a loss for anything better to call herself.

' I shall return, King Nightmare, when I have Found my name. Until then..' she slowly dragged her fingers along Pitch's jaw, flicking them off his skin slowly. 'you have a name. Albeit not my true one'

And with that she walked out of the room. She paused in the doorway, and the hood turned a little as she looked back. She jolted Pitch from his fight with the inner Pitch when she said;

'and thankyou for the compliment. I believe you approved of the cut of the neckline' she gave a quick brush down of her shining suit. 'you wondered what it was made of, am I correct?'

Pitch stared at her, dumbfounded, and managed one tiny, mortified nod.

She laughed that one, low little laugh, and said;

'I am a warrior. So it must be both flexible and strong. The flexibility comes from shadows, and the strength from raw Obsidian.'

On that note, she turned her back on the shirtless King and walked back down the corridor. After a second in which Pitch's brain was nothing more than a loading symbol, he stumbled over his own feet and ran down the corridor after her.

He got to the hall just in time to see her leap onto the back of her wolf, body slick to the rough fur, and she looked to him, standing with one hand against the wall, panting for breath.

So she laughed, tilted her head and flicked him a cheeky salute before yapping at the wolf in the creature's own tongue and riding the animal off and up into the sky.

As Pitch stood in the entrance to the hall, all he could think was;

_How did she know my name?_

And then he left for his bed chamber as originally planned, but Pitch did not rest that night after having seen the unusually clad Rider.

And as the word/name _Loss_ was blessed honey rolling off his tongue, Pitch wondered if she had approved of him in return.

After all, he had been half naked.

**AN: so Pitch meets the Lone Rider in all her..um..glory. needless to say, I think he did very little sleeping that night ;D**

**We see her name and eyes in the next chapter, I promise O.o**

**Review for more!**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	8. Chapter 8:A face fit for a Queen

**AN: note to my latest reviewer (you know who you are, Cross), your guess of how her eyes might look was uncannily similar to what I had planned :X so I changed it a bit so you didn't seem like some kind of fortune teller or something to me XD**

A King's Queen: Chapter 8: A face fit for a Queen

As soon as Pitch woke in the morning, after having met the strange Lone Rider, or Loss, as she liked to refer to herself, he dashed over to the huge ebony armoire in his bed chambers and tugged on the first clothes that met his frantic hand.

Not giving himself time to be ashamed of the slightly stained and worn black robe and scuffed leather riding trousers he pulled on, Pitch stumbled over to the door way and awkwardly kicked the door open while fastening his cloak about his neck.

After hauling on some riding boots, he scrambled over to the waterfall hall and with a quick whistle, called his Nightmare to him.

As she trotted over, clearly in no hurry to be off, the black glittering sand flowed over her body and within moments she was saddled and tacked. Pitch shoved a foot in the stirrup and managed to clamber up onto the tall horse's back.

He swayed a little as he sat in the saddle and his sense of balance seemed to have reversed itself over the course of the night. Pitch blew a deep breath and dug the spurs of his boots into the mare's flanks.

Pitch lost his grip on the reins as she shot up into the sky and when he arrived at North's workshop through an ill made portal he was almost falling completely out of the saddle.

As the mare skittered to an elegant halt on the crisp snow, Pitch sort of vaulted, but mostly fell, off the saddle and he stumbled slightly as he regained his senses.

The King had finally managed to wake himself up after a few handfuls of snow over his face and even though he had no throbbing headache, the lack of balance was enough to make Pitch regret the large quantity of alcohol he had consumed earlier.

Once he had figured out how to walk normally (or as much as was currently possible), Pitch made his way over to the enormous oak doors and banged on them with one fist. As soon as he had done so, however, he realised it was about 4 o'clock in the morning, and he inwardly cursed himself over this.

Expecting a livid North to answer the door, he was instead greeted by a sleepy looking Jack Frost, whose white hair was sticking up in odd angles.

Both spirits' eyes widened when they saw who was at the door, but just as Jack opened his mouth to make some sarcastic remark, Pitch held up a silencing hand as he leant against the door frame and croaked out;

'Loss. Her name is Loss'

And then he promptly collapsed on the floor, sound asleep

~0O0~

The Nightmare King was frowned at by the frost boy for moment, as the winter spirit processed what had just happened. But being well used to odd things happening at the early hours of morning, he simply shrugged and dragged the lightly snoring Pitch inside.

After a bit of difficulty, Jack had managed to haul the tall rider up onto the sofa and he looked at the King for a moment, admiring his handiwork.

Pitch's head was hanging off one end of the sofa, along with one of his arms, and one leg was folded awkwardly over the front of the seat whilst the other lay on the opposite armrest.

Jack sniggered, and being the first to have woken up, went to bother someone for a hot chocolate.

In the doorway to the kitchen though, Jack looked back and decided that the King would require something other than North's revolting hangover cure to drink when he woke.

So when Pitch awoke, and the world was upside down, he managed to roll over on his side, coming face to face with a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He crossed his eyes at the cup but then picked it up and brought it to his lips.

He was halfway through the rich drink when woke properly and glanced sharply at the sofa across from him. Jack was sitting cross legged in front of the sofa, leaning on it, in his pale blue flannel pyjamas.

Pitch stared at the frost boy, mug frozen to his lips in question. The younger spirit simply stared back over the rim of his own mug, eyes twinkling with silent laughter.

When Pitch still didn't move, Jack laughed and the mouthful of hot chocolate in his mouth squirted out of one nostril and dribbled out his mouth. Clearly his mirth was so great that the pain from the searing drink in his nostril could wait.

Eventually, the Guardian got a hold of himself and gestured to Pitch.

'So what did you want?'

Pitch glanced up from the mug once more and downed the last of it's contents before managing a cross between an 'ugh' and 'huh'. Jack translated the strange noise into one of question.

The spirit set his own empty mug down and spoke to the inebriated immortal before him;

'well, about an hour ago, you thumped on the door, woke me up and spouted something about someone called 'Loss' before passing out on the doorstep'

Pitch brought his palm to his face in humiliation and said through muffled fingers;

'I got your note Jack. And after I had drunk too much of that blasted whiskey, I had to go out and do my thing' Jack nodded in understanding; eyes as wide as saucers as he silently begged Pitch to continue with his story.

'So when I came back, I meant to go and get some sleep, but when I landed, there was an enormous wolf sitting across the lake.'

Jack's brow crumpled slightly in confusion

'Anyways, there was this huge wolf and it just sat there looking at me like 'well? Surprised to see a wolf twice the size of a lion sitting in your lair?'

The frost boy snickered, and Pitch sharply cracked his fingers open to reveal a bloodshot gold eye looking disdainfully at the errant teen. At this, Jack ceased immediately and Pitch continued;

'And this wolf was laughing at me' he held up a finger as soon as he said it and Jack bit back the comment he had been about to make, 'and so I just made my way to my bed chamber'

There was tense silence on Jack's part, so the older immortal carried on with his tale.

'but as soon as I got through the door, she was basically standing there against the wall sharpening this huge fucking sword and I was like 'what the heck are you doing here' and she was like 'you want to know my name so do I' or something…'

Pitch cracked a tired eye open at Jack, whose raised brows smacked of 'oh hell no!' and Pitch kicked himself over the crude language he had used.

He took a few minutes to compose himself, and Jack thought he had fallen asleep again, but then the King spoke again and said;

'She said that though she couldn't tell me her name because it was Lost to her, she could give me something to call her by'

Jack still hadn't moved from his riveted position so Pitch drawled onwards;

'She said that in the same way that I am Fear, she is Loss'

'So that's what I came here to tell you. Her 'name' is Loss'

Jack hmmed softly and unfolded his lanky frame to take the mugs back to the Kitchens.

But as soon as he got up and made his way over, the doors behind the sofa Jack had been leaning on exploded suddenly and North and the gang burst in. the sudden noise made Pitch jump, and he rolled all the way over until he was facing into the plush red cushions.

North's curious tone carried over the room;

'Pitch? Why you here?'

But Pitch merely raised an arm and tiredly waved the Guardian away.

'Can't you people all just _leave me alone?_'

All he got in response was roaring laughter

~0O0~

After coming down from their heights of hilarity, the other Guardians were reserved but willing to listen to Pitch retell his tale.

After hearing this interesting turn of events Tooth nodded to herself and said;

'So you don't really know anymore than we do'

Pitch shook his head morosely.

North piped up, and clapped Pitch hard on the shoulder, nearly jolting the tall rider from his seat

'Ha it's ok, we all know nothing apparently' his heavy Russian accent boomed across the room.

Pitch stayed a while to regain his sense of balance and after some quiet goodbyes, he slipped free of the room just in time to hear North thunder;

'_WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HE DRANK MY WHISKEY?!'_

Pitch had mounted up and was circling in the crisp air when he saw Jack dash out of the workshop, pyjamas, staff and all as North shook his fist menacingly at the rapidly retreating teen, who seemed far too happy to be truly repentant.

Pitch watched the angry Russian retreat back into the building, practically giving off steam, whilst the others all went back in cautiously after him.

A sharp flick of heels later and Pitch was hurtling through the sky back to his lair.

~0O0~

As was becoming routine these days, Pitch landed the Nightmare in the waterfall hall, near to the little wooden jetty. He was not so surprised this time to see the great wolf on the other side of the lake.

This time however, he was laying down upon the cool stone, front paws crossed in a regal manner.

Now fully recovered from his drink, Pitch jumped neatly from the Nightmare's back and continued to watch the wolf.

The animal slowly swung his large head over to the waterfall and back and then after pointedly staring at Pitch, laid his head upon his paws and apparently went to sleep.

Pitch slowly followed the gaze that the wolf's eyes had taken, and as he skimmed over the jagged black rock and perfect mirror edge of the lake, things got more and more confusing for the Nightmare King.

With it's hem nearly hanging in the water, was a small pile of black fabric. A tiny silver thing sat on top, but it was too small for Pitch to see what it was. A little further along the shore and there was a pile of jewellery; a glove, an anklet and a wrist brace.

And in a patch of bright sunlight, was something Pitch had not intended to see separated from it's owner for a long time yet; a sleek and shiny black thing, as glossy as oil, was a very flattering piece of clothing, with long arms and legs of billowing black, dull as dust compared to the rich shine of the body. Pitch flashed back briefly;

'_Flexibility from shadows and strength from raw Obsidian'_

The King swallowed nervously.

He let his gaze skip across the jagged rock, and eventually the water's edge began to churn and foam a little. The clear waterfall tumbled from above like a torrent of glass.

But instead of the dark wall of the cavern behind the rippling water, there was a silhouette.

His watch roamed from her ankles, all the way up the long, sleek legs, over the gentle swell of her behind and across the slim back. Her grey form stood out against the black rocks as if lit from within and her hair was very long.

As he watched, she tossed the inky black length from over her shoulder and to Pitch's horror, she began to squeeze the hair dry.

_That can only mean one thing_ he thought.

She moved away a little, but thankfully as soon as she stepped from the waterfall's distorting waves, she stepped into a cloud of shadows that swirled about her body like a drop of ink in water. The substance looked like the very opposite of clean, and Pitch focused on all the hateful substances he could liken it to than what he knew it to be concealing.

As he watched her, she continued to wring out her hair and she walked along the far shore until she stepped up to the strange suit she wore. She slid her legs into the sheer black pants, and they billowed at her ankle, but hugged her muscle from her thigh and up. The floating fabric did nothing to hide the sinful curve of her legs.

He had still not seen her face, or the front of her for that matter, but Pitch still watched like a hawk.

She held the shining Obsidian suit to her chest, and Pitch watched as the back pulled itself up and sealed seamlessly along her spine.

Now dropping her towel of shadow, she slipped her arms into the sleeves, that joined tightly at the shoulder but billowed out at the tight gather at the wrists, the same way her trousers did.

Once she had her jumpsuit on, she shook out her now dry hair, and Pitch saw the black strands settle at the small of her back in a neat curve. She then moved over to her jewellery and she tied the choker about her neck and slid the archer's glove and wrist guard onto her hand and forearm.

When she bent down to fasten the wolf teeth anklet about her narrow ankle, Pitch let out a quiet, strangled moan at the tension it gave to the curve of her behind.

Still she apparently had not noticed him, because she picked up her cloak and folded it neatly over her arm. As she walked slowly around the edge of the circular lake, she picked up the top layer of her jet black hair and pulled it back. With nimble fingers she braided the strands together until there was a thick plait lying upon the rest of her long, loose hair. She tied the end of with a little black scrap of leather and she still walked confidently over the rocks that would have cut any other person's soles to shreds.

By now she was close enough that Pitch started to see the front of her body, the dark grey skin of her chest exposed by that incredible neckline.

Pitch caught himself looking at the heavy flesh that just barely danced with each step too much and he swiftly rearranged his robe so that she would not see he was rising to the occasion.

She still walked closer and as her loose hair skipped in the misty breeze, he could see that it highlighted bright purple, green and blue like and oil slick did.

He saw that knowing smirk of her lip, and he knew she had known he was there all along.

Feeling a furious blush rise to his cheeks, Pitch was thankful he had left his cloak's hood up to shroud his awe slackened face in shadow.

But with her own cloak folded over her arm, her face was finally visible to him.

The sharp curve of her jaw led up to high, almost Elvin cheekbones that looked as if they could slice a man's questing hand, and her brows were dark, highly arched, and pointed at each end.

Her nose was fine and straight, almost delicate, and her cheeks were neat little curves that fit perfectly in the angles of her skull.

But the grey man nearly lost all sense of…anything… when he saw her eyes.

They were large and slightly tilted like his own almond shaped ones and they were framed by thick, curving lashes. Her irises were a purple so dark it was almost black, and they flecked with shards of other purples in all sorts of shades so it looked as if her eyes were two shattered and fractured amethysts.

She was so close to him now that he could see each and every eyelash perfectly, and his own reflection in the wide, dark depths of her pupils. Around the edges of the dark pools were tiny sparks of silver and for a moment, he could swear he saw the dark depths of her pupils shimmer with stars.

And then Pitch regained himself, and she was smirking in complete and luxurious amusement, those dark, wondrous violet eyes lidded in mirth.

Pitch gritted his teeth slightly and looked over her shoulder to have a staring competition with the wolf, who was looking just as amused as his rider.

But then she did that thing where she rested a hand oh so lightly upon his cheek that Pitch's raging thoughts all scattered into disarray for a moment. He could feel the supple leather of her archer's glove against his cheek and with a little push she slipped his hood down and looked into his own lost and confused eyes.

She spoke to him, voice like smoked honey slipping silkily upon the air;

'I told you I would return when I Found my name, Pitch'

He felt his brow quirk in confusion. It was strange enough that she knew his title, but even stranger that she knew his name.

'My name is Kh'ahli Itirilmiş, but I feel that my full naming of Infinite Loss is a little formal perhaps'

He nodded weakly in the presence of this dark mystery.

'You can call me Faoiltiama-Eimear, Wandering Wolf-Woman'

'That's supposed to be your informal name' he said, quietly.

She grinned, showing off the fangs that made her look wolf like.

'But if both of those are too long for you, Pitch, I would not mind Kh'iama, for short. It's translation, 'Infinite Wolf' does not make much sense, but none of you Earth bound spirits seem to make much of that anyway'

Pitch coughed, attempting to hide the way he knew his eyes had darkened with want and said;

'Well, K'hai, I hope you are willing for me to ruin your name's beautiful sound every time I say it. An 'earth bound' spirit as you put it does not get much experience with otherworldly tongues'

Pitch cringed inwardly over the double meaning that had, but apparently K'hai was happy with his rendition of her name and she hadn't noticed his double meaning.

He thought he had got away with it, but when she leaned in and touched her warm, soft lips to his, all hope of his inadvertent reference went out of the window.

She kept her keen eyes open when she kissed him, and he could feel her predatory side loving how he froze like a deer in bright light.

But Pitch did not grant her the satisfaction of squirming uncomfortably. He was entirely too proud for that.

She broke the strange kiss, and smirking once more voiced his inner turmoil of thoughts;

'I know you have questions, Pitch, but answers are Found, not made'

And as quickly as the kiss had happened, she had thrown her cloak over her shoulders, pinned it in place and summoned the huge wolf over with a quick bark.

She leapt onto the creature's wide back, and Pitch looked up at her with eyes as wide as a child's upon first seeing the light of stars.

She leant down to him from the wolf's flexing back and said to him;

'No matter what happens to me, I promise to find you in one week or earlier. I _will_ have answers for you Pitch.'

She adjusted her grip slightly on the wolf's fur, but then when she seemed just about to take off, she granted Pitch one last thing to ponder;

'But it is no good me Finding answers for you Pitch, if you are not willing to hear them'

And with a sharp cry and tug upon the wolf's fur, he leapt up into the air, paws falling with heavy beats and sharp scratches of claws upon stone as he ran round the circular wall of the cavern.

With a final bout of low and almost maniacal laughter, she kicked the wolf on and disappeared into the sky.

So far, it had been the craziest day of Pitch's life for several hundred years.

But it had also been the best.

**AN: So we meet the Rider at last :D I know I went a bit OOC in the first section a bit, but when Pitch is drunk/hung-over I think we can all have a bit of fun with him ;D**

**Quick shoutout to Miss Scarlet Cross for reviewing, it looks like I'm finally startin' to get a bit of interest around 'ere! *epic cowboy accent ;D***


	9. Chapter 9: The Queen's Wolves

**AN: This is a super long chapter, but hang in there, the rest of the story won't make any sense if you don't read this. **

A King's Queen: Chapter 9: The Queen's Wolves

Needless to say, after having seen K'hai's deadly curves bare to the drifting mist, and been kissed by those predatory lips, Pitch had tried his best to will his arousal away, but it was as if she had him under a spell.

Muttering a mixture of dark threats and wishful fantasies, Pitch checked the sky to make sure all was clear, and once she was nothing more than a ghost of memory in the air, he shamelessly sat down upon the edge of the jetty and pulled himself out of his riding breeches.

For a moment Pitch thought his behaviour unbecoming of a King, and more suited to that of a hormonal teenager like Jack. But once he felt his hand upon his throbbing manhood his mind went blank.

It only took three hurried strokes to bring himself to the edge and Pitch nearly fell into the lake from the force of his thunderous orgasm. As he dizzily watched his essence turn the clear water cloudy, Pitch washed his hand in the lake and stumbled to his feet.

With both North's thrice-be-damned whiskey and a heavy need for sex wiped from his system, the King was back to his clear eyed and sharp witted self. He briefly visited his bed chamber to change into some clothes that weren't stained and scuffed and thus Pitch emerged back out into the daylight in his riding boots that had the brightest shine, and the loose breeches that had the best stitching.

With the billowing black cloak pinned around his neck and the shadowy hood over his face once more, Pitch made sure his Nightmare was tacked up and rode with all haste to the lair in Tibet.

~0O0~

When the Nightmare and the rest of the herd touched down upon the soft grass of the mountain field, Pitch was pleased to see Jack sitting upon the mossy stone step with his elbows resting on his knees. He was just the person Pitch wanted to see.

Pitch vaulted easily from the saddle and strode through the thick grass to the frost spirit who looked caught up in his own thoughts.

When Pitch's tall shadow fell over his furrowed brow, Jack jumped up and was wielding his staff in an instant, but he sheepishly lowered the magical object and ran a hand through his snowy locks when he realised who he had been about to freeze.

'Oh...Hi Pitch'

'Hello to you too' the King said, smirking.

'So what did you want to see me about?' he said when the teen wouldn't meet his eyes.

Jack shyly kicked at the stone beneath his bare feet and when he spoke, Pitch understood why had been so reluctant to meet his keen gaze;

'Well, let's just put it this way, you having no shirt on made my situation about ten times worse'

'Oh my' Pitch laughed, and the frost boy blushed furiously.

'Let's see if we can do something about that'

Pitch confidently took the younger spirit's hand and pulled him into a crushing kiss. Pitch knew Jack enjoyed the light domination, so when he felt the boy go limp in his arms, he easily knelt with him.

With a movement too quick for Jack to even register, Pitch was sitting upon the crumbling stone step, with Jack seated in his crossed legs. With one hand gently holding the boy's chin up and the other working it's way into Jack's trousers, Pitch began to nibble lightly at the join between Jack's neck and shoulder and the spirit let out a strangled gasp.

The King muttered huskily into his ear;

'What do you want me to do Jack?'

'I-I want y-you to help me Pitch'

'Wrong!' Pitch whispered and he bit deeply into the boy's neck, almost drawing blood.

'Uh…I want you to help me with my problem'

'What problem?' he teased mercilessly

'Damnit Pitch! The problem raging between my legs!' Jack's resolve broke and he raised his voice as best as he could with his head tilted backwards.

'Still wrong. You will address me as my proper rank when making requests boy'

'Gah! Please help me with my problem Your Majesty, Sir!' he gasped weakly.

Sensing that this was Jack's best effort, Pitch relented and finally brought his hot palm to the teenager's slick skin.

With swift, sure strokes, and words so dark in his ear that even the quick tongued Tooth Fairy would faint at, Pitch brought Jack to completion and he laughed quietly to himself when the younger spirit's seed folded over his hand in quick waves.

Still continuing with his domineering masquerade, Pitch brought his hand to the boy's mouth and with a silent bite to the neck, ordered Jack to lick the hand clean.

The teen quickly obliged and soon Pitch's hand was back to it's light grey tone.

Knowing he was now sated, Pitch placed a little kiss on the boy's brow and helped him up. They shared a gentle embrace and then Pitch cut to the chase;

'Remember when I told you I had found the Lone Rider, and had her name?'

'Yeah' Jack said hoarsely, still floating on his orgasmic high, 'it was Loss right?'

'That is more her nature than her name. She came to me about two hours ago and gave me several things that she is called by' Pitch decided that Jack did not need to know he had seen her washing her trim body or that she had given him that predatory kiss.

'Her full birth name is Kh'ahli Itirilmiş, which translates to Infinite Loss'

'Um, doesn't she have anything shorter she could use?'

Pitch chuckled quietly to himself;

'Her idea of a 'nickname' was Faoiltiama-Eimear, which means Wandering Wolf-Woman'

'You gotta be kidding!' Jack laughed incredulously.

'However, she apparently seems satisfied with the name K'hai which is an even shorter rendition of Kh'iama, Infinite Wolf.'

Jack sputtered and snickered even more at this.

Pitch shrugged helplessly

'Well, with all the times she keeps popping up out of nowhere, I think that it's really quite appropriate'

'Ha-ha!' Jack, being the Guardian of Fun, couldn't help but laugh at all the names she seemed to have. He wiped a tear from his eye and asked the question Pitch had been sure would come, yet unsure how to answer;

'Well, what did she look like?'

Pitch threw an arm easily about the teen's shoulders and he looked dramatically up into the bright sky, 'that, my friend is deserving of an entire book. But she has the slashing cheekbones of an Elf, the lips of a siren and eyes so piercing that they rival that of a wolf.'

'My Lord, she sounds like ancient princess of sex or something!'

Pitch nodded sagely.

'With a body like hers, that might well be true'

At Pitch's dreamy admittance, Jack snickered at the obvious crush that the Nightmare King had upon this K'hai.

All he received in a return was a cuff on the ear and guilty pout.

The Guardian laughed brightly at this once more, but then had to leave.

'I'm sorry man, but I gotta go.' He made a thumbs up over his shoulder, 'but duty calls'

Pitch pushed lightly on his shoulders and had to hold his hood up when the powerful breeze that the spirit summoned nearly blew it off his head.

With a final wave, Jack spun his staff and sped off into the azure sky.

~0O0~

Three days, and two Nightmare casting nights later, Pitch was standing upon the same mossy step that he pleasured Jack on previously. The King toed the moss with a nostalgic smirk on his face.

The odd young spirit almost always brought an amused smile to Pitch's face.

Pitch was contemplating his purpose once more, not really paying attention to the bright sky surrounding him when his herd of Nightmares began to whicker and skitter about in stress.

He quickly rushed over to the unnerved creatures and as he laid his hands upon their increasingly stressed muscles, the din of neighs and whinnies crowded out any other of the noises in the crisp air.

Just as Pitch was thinking his mares might give up and dive over the edge of the cliff, they suddenly halted their fussing and bent their heads to the plush grass as if nothing had happened. Pitch slowly turned around in the middle of the herd, not being able to see anything other than many rippling black-purple hides.

He gently pushed past the now quieted Nightmares and he startled a little when he emerged from the herd practically nose to nose with the enormous wolf.

As he stared into the bright green eyes that shifted and rippled with orange and purple, the wolf twitched an ear and gave his coat a brief shake. With that, he easily padded over to the other side of the meadow and settled with his head upon his paws and he looked out onto the wide vista below.

Frowning slightly at the wolf, Pitch straightened his shoulders and walked confidently out across the dancing grass. As his riding boots clicked softly against the mossy rock, Pitch was not surprised to see K'hai lounging against the long flight of stone steps, half in and half out of the sunlight.

By the way one of her legs was slightly bent and the other flat to the ground and the way she leant easily up on her elbows, Pitch could tell she was partially in the darkness more for mystery's sake than dislike of the light.

He sat down next to her, secretly glad he had chosen to wear his best silk shirt, breeches and riding boots that day. He felt comfortable, if a little confused by her presence, and he sat with his shoulders hunched and elbows upon his knees as he looked out to the peaceful Nightmares in front of them.

Pitch did not break the easy silence between them, feeling that she should be the first to speak. But when she brought an ornate looking black flask to her lips and tilted her head back, Pitch looked across at her, wondering what could possibly worry _her_ enough to make her feel the need to drink.

But after a long pull upon the bottle, she wordlessly held it out to Pitch, and when he did not take it, arched a brow in the shadow of her hood.

Pitch curiously took the bottle from her, and inwardly shrugging and cringing at the same time, brought the bottle to his lips and drank. The stuff was very sweet and smoky and yet felt heated upon his tongue. As he swallowed curiously, he felt it sparkle and fizz slightly before fading to a very minty aftertaste. As he drank, she spoke without looking;

'I know you are wondering what it is, and yes, it is a type of alcohol. It's from a world far from here, and there they call it _Ta'Hissk, _but it is not any more harmful to the body than normal drink'

_Good to know when I've just downed alien liquor_ he thought sarcastically.

'But,' she said, and Pitch felt his gut lurch at what the catch would be, 'it has the magical property of relaxing the mind and making it easier to see things that we would not normally comprehend'

'Uh huh' he said cautiously.

She laughed lightly and, sitting up, laid her hand upon his shoulder.

'Don't worry Pitch; it is only to help you Find the answers I am to give you'

He shrugged non-committaly and turned to face her. He could see her bright eyes in the shadow of her cloak now, and he could see that they glowed ultra violetly in the dark, in the same way his glowed in the night.

She gently took his hand, and moved so that she was sitting across from him. As he watched, she closed her eyes slowly and underwent a curious transition.

She moved her feet until they were both resting on the other leg in the Lotus position, and she took and let out a deep breath. On the next breath, she straightened her back and let her shoulders go loose. Pitch let his hand slip from hers and she pushed her hood back to let her hair dance in the brisk wind.

She then rested her finger tips and thumbs together and then settled her wrists on her knees. It took Pitch a moment to place her alert yet relaxed posture as one of meditation. When she broke the silence that had settled, Pitch jumped slightly at her sudden words;

'Sit across from me, in the exact same way' her words were quiet but commanding and Pitch attempted to mimic her pose. But without opening her eyes, she chided him and said;

'Not like that. Your back must be straight, but not over flexed'

He obediently corrected his posture

'Your shoulders are tight. Let them drop'

He lost the tension across his shoulders and let them sag slightly.

'Good. Now breathe deeply as if you were falling asleep and close your eyes'

Pitch did so and immediately felt a curious sensation of disconnection. He half felt her rest his wrists on her knees and her fine bone settled lightly upon his knees also.

As his senses dulled, he could only half hear the wind rustle the leaves of the willow beside them and the brisk wind stung his cheeks slightly.

But what he had sacrificed in senses, Pitch had apparently made up for in the mind. When K'hai next spoke, her heard her soft whisper in his head instead of his ears and as he watched, the world beneath them fell away and Pitch completely lost all connection with his body.

Oddly enough, he felt no panic, only peace and indifference.

'Are you ready for the answers I am about to show you?'

Pitch opened his eyes, and sitting across from him was K'hai, her hair floating and drifting slowly, as if in a current, and her skin glittered with the light of the billions of stars they were surrounded by.

Pitch nodded 'yes'

She questioned a little with her sharp brows;

'Then ask your questions'

Pitch barely thought as he spouted his first thought;

'Where are we?'

Her answer was instantaneous, as if her mind was on a direct link with hers.

'We are drifting near the centre of everything, but we cannot go further due to the ties to out comparatively mortal bodies. And yes, my mind is directly linked to yours on most levels'

Pitch nodded slightly.

'Then what is it that I see in front of me, if it isn't you?

'This is my soul. All living creatures have one, even if they have been darkened or corrupted. You felt as if you had no soul after you were consumed by your fear and you have given it no thought since. But look at yourself; you would not be able to be here with me if you truly had no soul'

Pitch glanced down at his hands, resting on the dark skin of her knee. They were smudged with what looked like soot, and cutting through the dirt were bright glowing lines, like hot embers.

As he observed himself, she continued to speak

'The soot you see is all the horrors and darkness and evil that you have seen over your time as an immortal. But like any soot, it can be washed off. The lines of embers in your skin however, cannot be rid of. They are pure fear, and though others can change or sometimes erase these lines, they are embedded into your very core. Remember when I told you I was Loss, in the same way you are Fear?'

He nodded weakly, still staring at his hands.

'The fear cannot be removed from you, Pitch. You are a creature of it, and you take energy from other's fear. This fear cannot be taken from you, but I feel that with the right pressures and energies, you can rid yourself of your own fears.'

'How?' was his strangled reply

She looked around at the stars, as if searching them.

'Though you require fear to exist, too much of your own can be your downfall. You have experienced this once already. But like all things, a certain amount of one's own fear can be a source of strength, bravery and courage in the face of your enemies. It can bring the rest of you together, but being the fickle substance it is, can turn upon you in a heartbeat and cause self doubt, paranoia and fear'

'So fear is fed by itself?'

She nodded sagely

'Yes. Fear is self sustaining, and this is why you must keep a very tight hold of it at most times. But being able to absorb other's fear, you must keep an especially tight hold of your own and never let it go. You can acknowledge it in times of need, but other than that you must try to forget it completely. Let me show you.'

She gestured to the side of her jaw, where and winding line of embers stood out on her dark skin.

'Take it'

Pitch reached forwards, and as soon as his finger brushed the line, it disappeared from her own skin and Pitch felt it seared into his own jaw. He ghosted over the heat suspiciously, it felt different. Unique. Apparently everyone had their own fear, distinct from one another.

'Now conquer that new fear, and cast it out'

'How can I do that if I don't know what your fear is?'

She laughed a little.

'That is an answer that you will Find in good time.'

Pitch focused on the thread of fear in his skin as she told him to and forced the bolt of heat from his jaw with little resistance. The little ember of fear drifted and twisted in space, before slowly sealing itself back into her skin. Pitch noticed that it was the only fear she had, and that it felt fresh and crisp, like it was newly acquired.

'Why don't you cast it out?'

'Because I will require this fear to draw my strength from in the future'

'Should I cast out my own?'

'You can try, but it is so deeply embedded into you that it will be difficult. Casting out my fear was easy as it was foreign, and you were not under the influence of the draw so you did not absorb it as you normally would'

Pitch took this in and changed his question

'Why am I a creature of Fear, able to absorb it and cast it out from others, when you are a creature of Loss and cannot do the same?'

'It is exactly as you put it. In the same way you can manipulate Fear and absorb it, I can manipulate Loss and absorb it. But if you could experience the manipulation of Loss, it would feel wrong and alien to you because Loss is a different substance to Fear even though they are inextricably linked'

'But Fear can come from Loss though, a child Losing his father will Fear for the future'

'Like I said, Fear and Loss are closely tied, but still completely different'

Pitch took this in and framed another question

'Is that why you loom so similar to me, because our…callings are so closely linked?'

'Yes. I have grey skin, black hair and sharp teeth because those are traits of the Darkness. You share this same Darkness with me in the same way our bodies breathe the same air on Earth.'

'How many other creatures of the Darkness is there, other than us?'

At this, her brow furrowed and she searched the stars once more.

'I do not know, for I have not Found that answer yet, but I do know that there are others. But as Fear and Loss, two very powerful substances, we are more powerful than the others'

'Why does my calling take the form of a horse? Specifically mares?'

She shrugged, 'in the same way that our skin is a trait of the Darkness, our callings take different but similar forms too. Your Nightmares are mares because that is their form. And they are female so as to be similar to you, but still polar opposites. Otherwise they would be channels of you power rather than extensions of it'

'So your wolf is a male'

'Correct. He is named, in the same way that your mount is named, but for now both of those have been Lost to me'

'Can't you simply Find them again, if you are the embodiment of Loss?'

She sighed, sounding tired.

'That is a difficult question to answer. Some things simply drift in this space,' she waved an arm at the stars that twinkled brightly around them, 'others cannot be found until a certain Time, place or event has been reached. Still others can only be found by particular people and some things' she said darkly, 'some things, once Lost, are never to be Found again.'

Pitch took this in, digesting the astronomical concepts easily.

'Do my other Nightmares have their own types?'

She nodded

'They do. You have a herd of ten Nightmares, am I correct?'

He nodded

'Each Nightmare is one aspect of Fear. In order, these aspects are Dark, Fright, Loss, Gore, Confusion, Hatred, Illness, Weakness, Worry and Detachment. They are all closely linked, for example a Nightmare about death is both Fright and in most cases some form of Gore, but they still remain separate'

'You said one of the herd is Loss. If that is the case, why does she not take the form of a wolf also?'

'Because she is a form of loss only accessible through Fear and by extension all other Nightmares.'

'Hold on. Are you saying that the Nightmare in the herd that is Fear _birthed_ the one of Loss?'

'Yes. All emotions and substances are born from one another, and these can be traced back to the simple opposites: the Darkness and the Light'

Pitch gaped in horror at his own stomach, unable to form his next thought

'Do not worry' she said 'I was not birthed by you. We were each made into the embodiment of our part of the Darkness, not born to it. I am not your offspring'

Pitch gasped for breath, so great was his relief. Scrambling for something different to discuss, Pitch framed his next thought;

'Well, if my calling is divided into a herd of ten all different but closely linked Nightmares, you must have a wolf pack

'I do' she confirmed, 'but I only have five wolves at my command for Loss is a much more condensed thing than Fear. And much of Loss resides in Fear anyway, so it cannot have it's own embodiment.'

'Can you summon them?'

In answer, five normal sized, but still very dangerous looking wolves padded out of space and sat in a semicircle above their mistress.

'In order, they are Loved, Possessions, Memories, Emotions and Direction'

'How can a creature of Darkness be named Loved?'

Her reply was swift, eyes dancing with amusement;

'Their full names are preceded by 'Loss of', so Loved becomes Loss of Loved. He is the passage between the mortal world and the realm of the dead. For those that are carried upon his back are Loved by one or many, and they become Lost to the world of the dead'

'So any that are escorted by him are the things you spoke of earlier. Things that are Lost, never to be Found'

Another slow nod

'Once Lost to the dead, nothing can return the soul to the world of the living'

'Possessions?' he questioned

The pure white wolf sitting next to Loved got up and put his head beneath K'hai's palm.

'He is very mischievous. If an item is looked after well enough, he cannot steal it. I have very little control over his actions, but like you, he only answers his calling when he feels it. If an item must be Lost though, nothing can stand in his path'

As Pitch watched, the slim white wolf looked at him with wide eyes and before Pitch had noticed it, the wolf had the sapphire necklace Pitch had had about his neck in his mouth.

K'hai removed the item from the wolf, who gave it up willingly, and she returned it to around his neck with a thought.

'He only Lost the necklace for you to show how easily things can be Lost, but he returned it for he was not meant to take it to the place where all Lost possessions go. The necklace has importance, but it cannot be Found yet'

Possessions returned to his place, and instead the wolf with bright streaks of green and yellow through his fur padded up silently. Pitch noticed that his eyes were the same vivid pink as those of the Tooth Fairy.

'He looks so similar because he shares much the same purpose as Toothiana. Though she saves the most precious of memories, anything else is not safe. Whether it be a family member's face or the location of an item not yet Lost to Possessions, Memories can take it.'

As Pitch watched, the wolf slightly cocked his head at the King and a murky image of the bottle of whiskey Pitch had had so much interest from formed over the wolf's head. But when the wolf returned to his place, Pitch could still remember everything pertaining to the strong whiskey perfectly.

'He was not supposed to take the memory, right?'

'Indeed'

The next wolf strode forward, but instead of sitting down, the wolf with streaks of red through his fur stared straight at the King and a very curious thing happened.

As Pitch felt uncomfortable beneath the wolf's piercing gaze of empty black eyes, the streaks in his fur changed colour to a murky brown and the set of his muscles seemed awkward and confused. At this realization, the wolf sat bolt upright and the streaks in his fur became pure white.

K'hai broke the wolf's gaze with a small command and the wolf returned to his place, fur streaks back to their previous crimson.

'He picked up on your emotions and mimicked them. Only those truly Lost to Direction Lose their sense of feelings to Emotion. He receives relatively few calling where he gets most of an individual's emotions, so when he does, the energy is like crumbs to a starving man. If one becomes truly lost to Direction, their emotions will be completely devoured.'

The last wolf walked over and sat down. Nothing seemed to happen until Pitch felt a slightly sickening sense of vertigo as all up and down left his range of perception. This turned into full blown sickness and Pitch was soon slowly turning this way and that to try and find something to latch onto. This led to a sinking feeling and it was just when this started that K'hai broke the wolf's gaze and Pitch realized that each stage had been a Loss of direction. First physical, then purpose, then finally emotional.

The nondescriptly coloured wolf sat back down behind K'hai and Pitch noticed that Emotion had licked his lips slightly at Pitch's nearly impending depression. The way that all of these wolves could strip someone of everything just by their nature made Pitch shiver uncomfortably. But Emotion began to feed on this and with a sharp bark; K'hai had all of the wolves disappearing obediently back into space.

He was about to frame his next question, but then K'hai interrupted and said;

'I can answer no more for now. Any more answers are either currently Lost to me, or you must Find them'

And with that Pitch was falling, falling through the space and back into his own deeply sleeping and feverish body back on Earth

**AN: insanely long chapter I know, but there was both explanation and smut so be thankful ;D**

**Reviews appreciated greatly, **

**Tigress in Da Room**


	10. Chapter 10: The King's Fever

**AN: A bit of a short chapter this time, but I hope you enjoy it ;D. Also, I feel so loved now that I have 7 reviews *laughs and cries at the same time*. And a quick note, everyone watch out for Miss Scarlet Cross, she apparently has the ability to see into the future or something O.o (or with this fic at least XD).**

**Jokes, your all awesome and I love you all as much as the internet will let me XD**

A King's Queen: Chapter 10: The King's Fever

All sense of Time was Lost to Pitch. As soon as he had returned from the Centre of Everything with K'hai, he had fell into a deep, restless sleep and the sweat of a high fever was upon his brow.

K'hai, however, was unaffected. She crouched lightly, one leg stretched out to the side for balance as she tried to calm the writhing King. She did not know how long his fever would last, but she knew that no matter how weak or corrupted a soul was, a journey to the Centre was never fatal.

So she waited, keen purple eyes focused on the King as he fought inside himself for understanding. She had done all she could. Given all the answers that she had the right to Find. Now Pitch had to make the decision to accept the answers, or lose all hope of ever understanding his purpose.

She watched with soft eyes as he curled in on himself, muscles twitching occasionally, sweat beading on his skin as he fought for understanding. K'hai knew he hadn't properly returned to his body, for she was completely unaffected. She had a feeling that whilst his tie to his mortal body was rattled, and shaken, it would never break. But for Pitch to be in his body, but not there to the waking world, led K'hai to believe that he had remained in the Centre, and that he was now attempting to Find either more answers, or was fighting to understand those he had been given.

But after many thousands of years of experience, K'hai knew that Pitch remained safe. Or his body at least.

Despite this, she kept a cool cloth upon his brow and forced the King from his stupor when she could to give him water. No food though.

'_Feed a cold, starve a fever' _came to her mind as she looked after the torn spirit, hoping the fever would break soon.

Not once did she leave his side, but she could still feel the searing ember of Fear along her jaw as if she were still in her soul form. This one fear of hers was a great worry, not because it was fear. But rather that this Fear only came from a select few infected with a terrible illness. But she did not bother attempting to cast the Fear out, as she knew that it would only return twice as strong. And there was no point in fighting the illness.

For she knew there was no cure.

So the Guardian of Loss stayed by the Nightmare King's side, as loyal as a wolf.

Even when the night skies darkened over her and the fat clouds burst open with rain, she did not leave his side.

Lightning raged around her.

But her mind and soul were with Pitch, helping him to fight.

~0O0~

Even though he remained at the Centre, he had K'hai's mount with him. The huge wolf's presence was comforting, even as he moved through the stars, searching.

Everything about the comparatively mortal King had fallen away. He had no urge to answer the calling, no hatred when a memory of North or the other Guardians crossed his mind. Everything that made up Pitch drifted away, until nothing other than an urge to Find remained.

He knew not what he was Searching for, or what the names for the distant worlds he visited were. As soon as he had found what he was looking for, he left straight away to look for the next thing.

And as his calling was, Memories diligently removed the memories of these incredible places from the King's mind as soon as he left. Nothing remained but an aching sense of de ja vu.

It was just as well too. Some of the planets were little more than an invisible surface beneath Pitch's feet. Some places he visited had their rules of physics bent so out of shape that the very words 'space' and 'gravity' held no meaning. He visited dimensions that cannot be described in any way, and planets that were so mindboggling in either their size or the peoples that lived there that they could only be described to another whilst in the Centre of Everything.

As Pitch quested onwards, he heard voices that spoke no words, met creatures that saw even though they had no eyes and broke every conceivable dimension and law of the universe until the only place he could not go was the space between spaces, because he had Found on his travels that nothing, not even a soul, can survive inside.

It seemed unending to the King, but on Earth his sleep had only lasted a relatively short three days.

After Pitch had Found the last thing, K'hai's mount returned, and with a brief rest of a heavy paw upon the King's shoulder, Pitch properly returned to his body.

And at last, K'hai could breathe a sigh of relief.

For the King's fever had broken.

~0O0~

The Lone Rider watched as the King fought against the laws that said where he was going and what he was doing was impossible, and won.

With a pained and tired sigh, Pitch uncurled from his foetal position and slipped into an even deeper, proper sleep.

As the King's head lolled against the stone he had fell on, the Wolf Woman picked him up gently, and with no effort, carried the tall rider inside the Tibetan ruins and laid him to sleep on his own bed.

She looked down fondly at the Guardian of Fear; he seemed peaceful. His slim grey lip was set in a neutral line, no quirk of annoyance or hatred was to be found there. His skin had returned to it's normal pale ashen shade, and was no longer covered in a slick sheen of sweat. His brow was relaxed, and his breaths deep and slow.

K'hai placed a gentle kiss upon his lips, and left the King to his rest.

She left the shadowy room, looking back at the resting Pitch.

He would sleep for as long as his fever had lasted; plenty of time for K'hai to accomplish her next task.

'Sleep well, my King' she whispered softly.

And with that, the slim huntress mounted up her wolf, waiting patiently outside, and drove him into the air.

It was high time she introduced herself to the Guardians.

**AN: So Pitch somewhat returns from his out of body experience, and K'hai sets out to meet the Guardians. But her meeting them won't be just an exchanging of names, for they too have things that were Lost…now to be Found.**

**Review for more,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	11. Chapter 11: Visitor Part 1

A King's Queen: Chapter 11: Visitor

K'hai flexed her body easily with the powerful movements of the wolf's back. She knew who she had to visit first, so she rode with all haste northwards until the clear air around her merged into a thick blizzard.

Using an acute sense of direction, she let the wolf touch his paws to the ground to get out of the stinging air, and after a few faltering steps, she urged him on once more and was racing back across the snowy plain that Pitch had first seen her on.

The wolf eagerly dug his paws into the snow, and within minutes they had arrived at their destination.

The huge wolf swiftly skidded to a halt and began scaling the sheer face of the cliff that the workshop was set into. His claws scrabbled against the rock, but eventually the wolf had managed to shimmy his way up to the top and was panting heavily, breath smoking in the cold air.

She slipped from his back easily, and soothed her hand over his rippling fur.

She rested her forehead briefly against his, two bold pairs of eyes sharing a thank you too deep for words.

K'hai removed her bow from over her shoulders and unclipped the quiver of arrows from the loose belt around her hips. Possessions walked out of the raging blizzard and took the bow and arrows from her before disappearing back into the snow, pure fur melting easily into the whiteout.

K'hai sent a silent good travels to her loyal friends, and strode confidently through the brisk snow to the great doors of the workshop. She knelt down and slipped the dagger from the sheath on her calf.

She placed it in the heavy old lock, and twisted the clear purple blade to and fro until the lock clicked and let her in.

She slipped through the infinitesimal gap of the door and shut it silently behind her. Clicking the dagger back into it's sheath, she moved stealthily through the various chambers and even managed to make her way through the bustling workshop without being seen by any of the elves, yetis or Guardians.

She found her way to North's study and putting an ear to the heavy doors, listened for any movement from within. She heard nothing, so she pressed the well oiled handle down and let herself in.

A comfortable fire roared in the study and there was a cheerfully lit Christmas tree in the corner.

She sat upon the overstuffed arm of the chair by the bright hearth and summoned Possessions to her. The white wolf walked straight from the heart of the fire and sat down by her side, waiting obediently.

With a few quiet whispers of wolf tongue in his ear, she told him to go and search for North, and than when he found him, to Lose one of the dual swords he always carried by his side.

Possessions dipped his head, bright eyes lit with the promise of a hunt.

The wolf nudged the door open and slipped out into the quiet corridor.

K'hai watched him go, and amused herself by browsing the bookshelf above the mantel piece, curious as to what books tickled the old Russian's fancy.

Unsurprised to see classics such as the Night before Christmas and a copy of the Bible, which K'hai noticed had a secret flask of Vodka tucked in it's hollowed out pages; she briefly halted over North's journal.

She stroked the binding of the red leather book and after a little hesitation, pulled the book from the shelf and set it on her lap.

She did not intend to read it, but rather use it as leverage if North grew uncooperative.

Only about a minute after tugging the journal from the shelf did Possessions walk back through the door, with one of the great curved silver blades in his mouth.

He set it down on the carpet by K'hai's side and sat down by her. She absently stroked the wolf's noble head and he told her with a thought that North had now noticed one of his swords was missing and was now making his way to the study.

Within 2 minutes, the lock to the door had been tried and when it swung open with a slight breeze, North started slightly at the person standing in front of the fire.

Taking in the long legs, shadowy cape and nonchalant posture in a heartbeat North had brandished his remaining sword and yelled in angry Russian:

'_What you doing here, Pitch?!'_

He spat the name angrily, expecting some mocking laugh and evil scheme.

But when the Guardian of Loss stood from her leaning, he could see that this was no King of Nightmares before him. The man hesitated, but raised his sword once more when he saw that she had the long blade at her hip, undoubtedly twice as strong as his own weapon.

She turned slightly, letting the firelight behind her silently emphasise both the dagger at her calf and sword by her side.

Thinking better of his threat, North reluctantly sheathed his sword, but he kept a hand upon the hilt if he need draw it again in an instant.

K'hai spoke with amusement when the old Russian still watched her suspiciously;

' I think that if I were Pitch Black, I would have worked my evil by now'

North easily retaliated

'I think that taking sword counts as evil, don't you?'

'Oh, a little extreme aren't we? Jumping to conclusions all of a sudden'

She walked across the carpet until she stood in front of the Guardian. K'hai moved her head a little so that her jaw left the shadow of her hood.

But maintaining her aloof personality, she shrugged and smirked and settled back by the fire.

'You were right to be suspicious North,' she said, watching the man frown at her knowledge of his name, 'because I answer the same…calling as Pitch. Somewhat'

'Well? Out with it!' he gestured impatiently.

K'hai tsked to herself and gave the Guardian some mercy.

'I believe that one of your comrades sighted me about a week ago, am I correct?'

Loss watched as the other Guardian furrowed his brow in confusion, and then grinned when the light of realization dawned on him.

'You are Lone Rider! The same Sandy saw on rounds!'

'The very same' she nodded.

North instantly felt more comfortable now that he had some idea of who was standing before him. But he had a question written in the lines of his face, and he leant against the arm of the other chair so they were on equal grounds.

'Jack said you were Loss, in same way Pitch is Fear? Correct no?'

She nodded slowly.

'Yes. But I go by many other names. The King of who you speak seems to have settled upon K'hai as my name to be called by'

'K'hai?' he struggled a little with the halting of the apostrophe, but she noticed that the Guardian picked up the pronunciation easily.

He settled back and waved a tattooed arm in the air.

'That still not explain why you are here, my friend'

She smiled, and knew she had the Guardian hook, line and sinker.

'I am the Guardian of Loss. But I don't always Lose things, sometimes I return them. In this case, I speak of your memories'

Her heart warmed a little at the sight of the bearded man's face lighting up with hope. None of the Guardians had any remembrance of their mortal days.

'Tell me, tell me!' he urged.

'Well, you were walking the streets of Moscow, late in the night on Christmas eve. You weren't going anywhere in particular, simply enjoying the city late in the night of 1850. You were planning on heading to the lake in the city centre when a man stepped out of the shadows. He was well dressed, and cultured. But by the way he swaggered out in front of you, your heart dropped. A week ago, you had caused trouble of some kind or other for some people very high up, with the court in their pockets. In these days, I believe the term is 'mafia''

North had remained silent, but his blue eyes had glazed over with the memories being unlocked to him.

'The man asked for your money. You gave all the coin you had. He asked for your possessions, and you handed over your pocket watch, waistcoat and ring. Then he said 'my friend, you have still not paid enough'. And then he stepped forwards and slipped the knife from the back of his trousers.'

The Guardian before her was now weeping silently, and tears trickled into his white beard.

'The blade entered your heart like butter. As you collapsed to the floor, the man walked away and left you to bleed on the pavement. Your sight went dim, and you were in excruciating pain, but there is a reason you are the Guardian of Wonder.'

North had closed his eyes, and his wide shoulders were shaking silently.

'You were a good man, Nicholas st North. Even as your life and world crumbled around you, you still saw the wonder in every tiny thing. The delicacy of the snowflakes. The laughter from the family home across the cobbled street. The warm fur of you coat against your blood slickened skin'

K'hai reached out and gently brushed the black fur on the end of North's sleeve.

'You never stopped seeing the wonder North. So the Man in the Moon made you a Guardian of it. He absorbed you into the Light, to protect this earth's children from those of the dark. Like myself and Pitch. You think what we do I wrong, but it is none of our choice. In the same way you answer the call and draw to create Wonder, I answer the draw to create Loss. And Pitch answers the draw to create Fear.'

North looked up now, and his eyes were red and moist, but he had stopped crying.

'It is your nature, isn't it?'

'You understand. My job here is done for now. I have Found everything I have a right to.'

With that, K'hai picked up North's sword from where Possessions had left it and placed it in the Russian's lap.

K'hai brought Possessions to her side and left the quiet room.

As soon as she was gone, North shook his head slowly to himself. A tall grey woman of the Darkness, dressed in nothing but a shining black bodysuit and shadowy cape had given him his greatest wish for these past 200 years. And she had done it without showing her eyes.

It was incredible.

Not noticing it had been moved from the shelf North seized his journal from the arm of the chair and began to write in crisp Russian the story of how Nicholas st North had become the Guardian of Wonder.

~0O0~

After K'hai had left North to his memories, she made her way to the large circular room above the workshop. Once the Guardians had banded together, it had become something of a communal lounge for them.

There was a ring of sofas and chairs in the centre of the high ceilinged room, and it was all but empty. Upon one of the little chairs, curled in on himself, was the tiny, but no less powerful, sandman.

K'hai watched his round face, smiling slightly in sleep. She knelt in front of the chair, and gently touching her fingertips to his brow, entered his dream.

K'hai emerged into bright, sweltering sunlight. She felt shifting sand, searing in the midday sun, beneath her bare feet. It was the middle of the Sahari dessert, and K'hai walked through the huge, rolling dunes. She heard light, childish laughter upon the wind, and around the next sand dune was a young child, laughing and playing with his horse.

The white Arabian creature skittered and nickered happily, and there was a young teenager jumping and running around with what was clearly his best friend.

He was so young and innocent, that despite being 13, he looked more like 9. He was slim and tanned and so fragile that it was a wonder he simply didn't blow away on the wind.

He wore the loose pants and wrap around his head that all the other nomads of this region did, and the bright blue and yellow fabrics rustled and fluttered as he jumped and played.

Eventually, he caught the errant horse around it's long snout and held it's face close to his own, fondly stroking it's floppy white mane.

K'hai sat herself down on the warm sand, feeling it shift and fold around her.

The young boy grasped the loose reins of his horse, and began leading it away from the area between the dunes in which they played. As he turned however, he met a woman.

She was sitting cross-legged in the sand, and she looked like one of the high warrior princesses of the desert his father had told him stories of. Her thick black hair, in thousands of little braids, danced and tumbled in the wind, and she wore dark green clothes that were loose and light. There was a tight black sash around her waist, and it's long ends fluttered along with a black cloak.

Her eyes were very strange though. The boy knew she was not anything real because no one has such bright purple eyes with little flecks of silver in them.

She reached out a hand to him, smiling with dark red lips against ebony skin.

The finely leather gloved hand, the same dark brown as her riding boots, was held out in invitation.

With the complete trust of an entranced child, the boy walked over to her and took her hand. She shook it gently, and sat him down across from her.

'My name is K'hai' she said, voice smooth and everything the boy imagined a regal princess to sound like.

'And I know that your name is Sandy. But it hasn't always been that has it?'

The young boy suddenly aged before her, his face settling into an expression of such deep sadness that she truly felt sorrow in her heart for him.

'I know that this is just a dream for you, the Guardian of Dreams. You recreate this perfect memory for yourself every time you sleep, because it is the only thing you remember from your time as a mortal. Isn't it'

He nodded morosely.

'You want to know more don't you? But you can't remember.'

A tear leaked from the child's eye.

'Well take my hands and let me tell you a story'

He sniffled and looked up to her with wide, cerulean eyes. K'hai noticed that they were flecked with gold.

'You were playing just near your village. You could hear the sound of the tents and flags rustling in the wind. You and your horse danced across the sand. It was a perfect day in the desert and you and your people were well. There was no illness. No famine or lack of water. Wind chimes danced on the breeze as you frolicked. You were tired. So you moved into the shadows of a sand dune. You fell asleep. You thought it wouldn't hurt to fall asleep, you were so close to your tribe.'

Tears ran freely down the boy's face now, cutting bright trails through the desert dust on his skin.

'You were dreaming. Of an oasis full of lush palm trees and exotic fruits. There were dryads there, and you dreamt you were playing with them in the dappled sunlight. But you woke to the sharp sting of sand on your face, and your horse was nowhere to be found. The wind had picked up, and the sandstorm was so thick by now that you couldn't tell which direction your village was, even though it was less than 100 yards away. There was no sound other than the sprinting wind and grate of sand. You tried to cry out, but sand filled your mouth. It was horrible for you. One of the rare times when you deemed it necessary to speak, much preferring to show your wants and needs through action, and the desert cut you short.'

He was sobbing silently now, his head fallen onto K'hai's knee. She stroked his black hair as she spoke;

'You died that day. You walked and turned in circle after circle, but sand filled the air. Your nose. Your lungs. You collapsed, unconscious. As the sand buried you, you dreamt of the palm oasis again. And when the dryad reached out to you, her green eyes kind, you slept. And all went black. So when your body was not found, the Man in the Moon raised you. And because you never stopped dreaming, he made you the Guardian of Dreams'

K'hai looked down, and instead of the slim young boy, there was the Sandman, all round and golden, crying into the fabric of K'hai's trousers. She let him.

'Your name was Rigel. It meant 'Prince of gold' in your language.'

'So since you cannot remember anything, you shrank yourself down and down. Until nothing remained but that one precious memory of you and your horse. That is why you take this small form, to protect the memory that means the most to you'

Sandman stopped crying now, and a question mark formed itself above his spiked hair despite the fast wind of the desert.

'I know. You are Dreams. And in the same way, I am Loss. But like I told you, my name is K'hai. But in truth, I am nothing more than Infinite Loss. You may know me better as the Lone Rider. You saw me upon my wolf whilst out answering the call for dreams didn't you?'

He nodded sharply, smiling weakly

'I do not always Lose things though. Like I just did, I sometimes Find things, and give them back. It is high time you Found your mortal memories again, Sandy'

'I know that you feel confused. Any creature of the Light will feel like that around me. For I am of the Darkness, the same as Pitch black'

Sandman stiffened at her words, frowning deeply

'But haven't I just proved that not all things Dark are bad?'

The little man nodded, and he fell into her welcoming arms.

And as Sandy's dream faded into the waking world, he opened his eyes, and jumped straight into her arms.

The dark warrior woman held him, as he sobbed out all his lost childhood.

The room was quiet around them.

But when Sandy opened his eyes, she was not the ebony princess from his dreams, but instead a grey, wolf like warrior dressed in tight shadows and Obsidian with a heavy sword at her hip.

She looked completely different.

But Sandman knew she was benevolent, despite the evil that was simply her nature.

She looked into his eyes, bright violet meeting warm gold, elegant hands upon his shoulders.

'Now that you understand what I mean when I say I showed you how to Find you memories, you know what I mean when I say that the Nightmare King was shown the same. But I took him to the Centre of Everything, and he is now sleeping off a high fever. I was hoping you might be able to give me something to help him have a restful sleep'

He nodded, and looked deeply at K'hai for a moment. Then he nodded to himself and held out a palm of glittering sand. He poured it into a black leather pouch that K'hai held for him and she thanked him with a firm, silent hug.

Sandy closed his eyes then, wanting to dream all the memories that had been Lost to him.

And when he opened them briefly to say a spoken goodbye to K'hai, she was gone.

The door to the lounge groaned a little as it shut, and Sandman looked at it with a mixture of fondness and thanks as he went back to his dreaming.

~0O0~

K'hai left the workshop, having done all she could there.

She left the large place with ease, not being seen by any other than the two souls she had touched.

She strode out into the now clear space in front of the large doors and gave a shrill, piercing whistle. Her mount appeared out of the air and she leapt onto his back. With a little tug on his fur, and a few directions in his tongue, she sent him rocketing up and into the sky with all haste.

Back to the high reaches of the Asian mountains

~0O0~

When K'hai reached her destination, she brought the wolf down into an arc and landed him in the thick rainforest, moist and misty and bright with colour.

K'hai's mount melted away into the undergrowth, and she set off into the heart of the trees. After about quarter of an hour of hard walking, she came upon a jagged and crumbling cliff, but set into it were the bright towers and halls of the Tooth Palace.

She cleared away the large ferns and flowers in her path and was met by one of the tiny little tooth fairies.

It's tiny, bright body whirred and flitted in the air and looked at K'hai with nothing but curiosity. She met eyes with the cute creature and asked politely:

'Could you please tell Miss Toothiana that she has an urgent visitor?'

The little fairy squeaked in acknowledgement and sped off with all haste towards the palace.

K'hai pushed onwards through the thick jungle, towards the shining Tooth Palace. Eventually K'hai came upon the great doors, and the pale green glass shone bright in the crisp sunlight. Before she went in, however, K'hai Lost her form and then Found it again as her fae form. She now had long, black peacock feathers drifting from the small of her back and great black raven's wings on her back.

She particularly enjoyed this form, but like all of those that weren't her true one, she couldn't hold it for any longer than a couple of hours. She crouched lightly to the ground, and with one enormous beat of her wings, sprung into the air. Even though she had not used this form for several hundred years, K'hai still knew how to fly and she was soon tumbling and rolling through the sky, swift as a bullet.

With a little effort, she kept herself in place and hovered with long, lazy beats in front of the doors. About 30 seconds later, the mini fairy came back and squeaked at her. K'hai translated, and knew that Toothiana was waiting in her study for her.

K'hai leant forward, and pushed the door open lightly, flying into the enormous, colourful hall that met her. The floor was mirrored and the walls were made of stained glass that looked like rainbow waterfalls. Toothiana was hovering patiently in front of the globe, it's twinkling lights almost blindingly bright.

K'hai beat her wings once, gaining height, and swooped down elegantly to hover in front of the Queen of the Tooth Fairies.

But when she saw the dark, dangerous fae in front of her, Tooth suspiciously drew her golden cutlass and readied herself for battle, flitting about in place slightly, her bright feathers becoming a blur of speed.

'Please' K'hai stated sarcastically, quickly drawing her own deadly, and much more impressive, blade from the sheath at her hip.

'What do you want?' Tooth growled, low and menacing.

'I only want to share with you something that had been Lost'

Tooth's deep frown of anger faded into a slackened face of confusion.

K'hai smiled at the fairy and sheathed her sword as Tooth did the same.

Beating her wings backwards, K'hai let herself touch down upon the floor, her peacock feathers voluminous against the mirrored surface.

Surprisingly, Tooth did the same, her blurred pink wings for once being still. As was proper of her title, K'hai made a small bow to Tooth. After all, she may have been much younger than K'hai, but she was still a Queen.

'What do you want to show me?' Toothiana asked.

'Memories' K'hai said simply.

'but-'

'Yes, I know that you are the Guardian of Memories. But these memories are your own. From your time as a mortal'

Tooth's vivid pink eyes welled up with tears, and K'hai took her hand.

She put her fingers to Tooth's furrowed brow and closed her eyes.

'Let yourself relax. A fusing of minds is a delicate and complex thing'

Tooth obediently closed her eyes, and K'hai felt her body loosen a little between them.

_My name, as you are wondering, is K'hai_ she said into the fairy's mind.

'K'hai' Tooth whispered, easily faltering the apostrophe as the pronunciation required.

'_Be seated, Queen. I can sense that you are tired'_

'_Oh! Yes, of course'_

In synchrony, K'hai and Tooth sat down on the mirrored floor, feathers rustling. K'hai kept her fingertips touched lightly to the other fae's brow and once they were both comfortable, she carefully removed her fingers.

Tooth opened her eyes, and K'hai pushed back her hood. She saw the fairy raise her eyebrows ever so slightly at the dark raven's appearance, but as all royalty are trained to do, she kept her reaction masked well.

'Now. I need you to close your eyes again, Toothiana'

'Match my posture' K'hai said, assuming the same straight backed stance as she had when taking Pitch to the Centre of Everything.

'Good'

'Now. Let me Find your memories for you.'

Toothiana nodded almost imperceptibly and let out a deep breath.

'You were a young girl. Just turned 14. Your parents were ambassadors from the English Empire, sent to the Tibet-India border to supervise the treaty between the two recently warring countries. You had a beautiful mansion, tucked in the mountains. But you were a very well mannered young girl, if a little mischievous and fun loving. So when your parents left for the city, you remained here. After having explored every room and hidden corner without the interference of your parents, you went to the kitchen, and ate all manner of rich sweets and chocolates. But a wobbling tooth in the back of your mouth was nearly jostled out of your skull at a particularly hard brazil nut.'

Toothiana swallowed nervously, already hazarding a guess as to how this would go

'But you were feeling adventurous still, so you decided to explore around the mansion a little. You put on your best hiking boots, and carried a machete to cut through the thick jungle. As you walked, you noticed you were followed by a little hummingbird. He would pause to watch you, and you started a one sided conversation with the little fellow. But as you were distracted, you did not see the huge sinkhole before it was too close. You tripped over a root, and swayed over the edge of the gaping hole. You almost regained your balance. But it was fated'

Tooth, like the other Guardians, was now crying silently, tears running off her face to land in the soft feathers at her collarbone.

'You fell. And as you fell, the loose tooth finally came loose and lodged itself in your throat. You died twice. Once from the fall. And again from the choke. But as you died your double death, you didn't cease to remember the good things. Because as you fell, the same little hummingbird who had trailed you dived with you, tiny wings whirring. When your body hit the slick rock bellow, he didn't leave your side. That day, Kate Mary Oswald died. '

K'hai noticed that the mini fairy was back, and that it too, was crying. He too remembered that dreadful fall.

'And when the Man in the Moon raised you, he took inspiration from the nearest thing. Using the tiny hummingbird as a template, he fixed your broken body. Covered you with your bright feathers. Gifted you with the dragonfly's wings of a royal fae and turned your long chestnut hair into a stunning crown of colour, befitting of your title. And when you opened your vivid eyes, he said six words to you before leaving you to your fate'

Tooth bit her lip slightly before whispering;

"You are the Guardian of Memories"

'Yes. And from that day, you became Toothiana, the Queen of the Tooth fairies, because the Man in the Moon noticed how you always kept your precious memories close. And the vessel that we all keep closest is our teeth. So you swore to take these fallen teeth, and keep the precious memories they held safe, until they were needed the most.'

Tooth opened her large eyes, and shamelessly hugged the dark warrior before her.

'I know that you now consider me a friend. But our natures are polar opposites; you are a creature of the Light, I one of the Dark. And you choose to save the most precious things. Whereas it is my calling to Lose them'

And with that, K'hai clicked her fingers and Memories strode out from underneath her wing, his bright feathers a mirror image of Tooth's

'How-'she asked upon seeing the wolf that looked so similar to herself, with bright colours in his fur and wide pink eyes.

'He is called to memories, in the same way you are. So he looks the same. I have a resemblance to the King of Nightmares because we are both people of Dark and, to some extent, Fear'

Now strengthened by her memories, Tooth rose elegantly to her feet, and bowed back to the Queen before her.

'Even so, I think you just proved that not all things of Dark and Fear are bad. Thank you. I now understand that you do what you do because it is a calling. Just like my own'

K'hai nodded silently, and jumping into the air, hovered with powerful strokes. She made her way to the doors, but before going through, Memories nudged her hand and looked back to Tooth, who was watching with something akin to admiration.

K'hai remembered herself, and turned back to the wide eyed fae;

'Oh yes. I forgot to tell you. The love you feel for the Guardian of Fun…it is not one sided'

Tooth's eyes went wide, and she drew her arms in close, the young teenage girl once again.

'But I thought Jack liked Pitch, and um...guys in general?'

K'hai laughed

'He does. But the fact that you are the only woman he has ever had feelings for just proves my point further, does it not? I believe he Lost a thought to Memories her a few months ago. How did he put it? Ah yes, he thought you were "exotic and bright"'

Tooth silently blushed as deep as the purple glass walls, and K'hai slipped out of the doors, knowing that it wasn't only minds and souls she had touched.

But hearts also

And on that gentle thought, K'hai Found her proper form again, and mounting up her great wolf, made her way towards the South.

And the outback of Australia.

~0O0~

**AN: Another insanely long chapter, but I wanted a reason for K'hai to meet the Guardians other than for that reason alone. And I know that not all of them died before becoming Guardians, but these were my interpretations. So if any of them were too Out Of Character, review and let me know.**

**Other than that, I can tell you that K'hai goes off to visit Bunnymund and Jack next.**

**And that Pitch finally awakes from his slumber…**

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	12. Chapter 12: Visitor Part 2

**AN: To Marsline21, your wish is my command XD you asked for more, so here ya go :3**

A King's Queen: Chapter 12: Visitor Part 2

The wolf strained rhythmically beneath his rider, and gradually the cold air and white landscape beneath them became warmer, and turned to endless blue ocean. K'hai tugged the wolf's hair once more, and he shot through the sound barrier like a speeding bullet, kicking up spray on both sides from the calm ocean.

This seemingly endless expanse of water then turned to beach, then thick mangrove, and then scrub and bush. After having rode for hours, K'hai jumped from his back a little stiffly, but she drew her sword and swung and stepped, letting the weight of the blade keep her body supple. It sang through the air, and K'hai felt her blood rush. It was only a suspicion, for she did not have the right to Find the fact yet, but K'hai had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before she could swing her sword against real enemies once more.

But for now, she had other things to Find, so she walked through the low bush and scrub, red dust coating her bare feet. She was followed by a little group of meerkats, and K'hai used them to find her destination.

About half an hour of walking later in the hot outback and K'hai came upon a place that was flat, wide, and devoid of plant life. The bare circle would have seemed odd to any who met it, but the meerkats fearlessly skipped inside it's boundaries.

And promptly disappeared.

Smirking to herself, K'hai Lost her current form, and Found the animal one that would allow her into the place that the bare circle of red dust guarded.

K'hai felt her feet lengthen until she was standing upon her toes, and her spine lengthened out of her back in compensation. Her nose and jaw grew longer and wider, and her ears moved up through her hair to the top of her head. Finally, she felt her fangs become even sharper, and her body was covered in the same thick tawny fur tipped with black that her mount had.

She swayed slightly on her now digitrade feet, as her centre of gravity had shifted slightly. She gave her long, fluffy tail a wave, and felt satisfied with her efforts.

Now a wolf woman in every sense of the word, K'hai twitched and ear and crossed the boundary of the circle. Immediately, the hot air of the outback succumbed to something much damper and cooler, and instead of fine dust beneath her paws, K'hai felt soft, lush grass.

She opened her eyes, and instead of the bare circle, her animal form could now see the underground oasis that had been masked by it. The meerkats were already off and down the hill, and were now frolicking among thousands of brightly painted Easter eggs in the clearing bellow.

K'hai followed them down the little path in the grass and made her way over to a figure who was sitting, slumped against the great trunk of a weeping willow. He was painting Easter eggs, and Bunnymund was so engrossed in his work that he did not notice the tall wolf woman until her shadow fell over him. Still he did not look up;

'Oi, Jack mate, your blocking my light here'

'I know' she said calmly, and when Bunnymund looked up, he startled. But like all warriors, he turned this swift burst of energy into a drawing of his weapons, and sacrificing his hold on the delicate egg, brought his boomerangs from their holsters.

With stunningly quick reflexes, K'hai caught the egg before it hit the ground, and as she straightened up, Bunnymund looked at the egg as if it were a live grenade.

K'hai motioned with it a little, and Bunnymund reluctantly returned one of his boomerangs to it's holster so he could set the egg down where it would not be trampled.

'Well what do you want? You look like one o' Pitch's lot to me'

K'hai smirked, and gave the tall Pooka a nod

'To some extent I am. But you might know me better as the Lone Rider that Sandman saw whilst out on his rounds.'

'Yeah, but that Sheila was tall and grey, and she definitely did not have a tail!' he said, nodding to the appendage that waved softly behind K'hai to keep her balanced.

'Yes that it my true form. I had to Lose that form and Find my animal one in order to enter this sanctuary'

'Why do you say lose and find like they've got capitals?'

She laughed,

'Because they have. In the same way that you are the embodiment of Hope, I am the embodiment of Loss'

'Right' he said, clearly not believing a word she said.

Now losing her patience a little, K'hai grew restless and put and hand to her hip

'Do you really want to fight me Bunnymund? I have two blades, forged on Vulcan, capable of cutting diamond. There are none of these Ancient Nordic Greatswords left in existence other than this one'

She rested her hand lightly on the hilt of her blade, but now feeling the blood of battle in his veins, Bunnymund wasn't about to let up now.

'Show me'

She grinned mercilessly, and in that one grin, Bunnymund knew that he had already lost the battle. She drew her sword and taking the motion from this, spun in a low circle and had the tip of the deadly blade at the white fur of Bunnymund's throat.

'Are you sure you want to pick this fight, Pooka?'

He flinched more at his slain people's name than the great war sword at his throat.

K'hai didn't wait for an answer before removing her sword and slipping it back into it's sheath

'So before you became filled with the heat of battle, and interrupted me, I was about to say that I don't always visit just to Lose things. Sometimes, like this case, I am dropping by to Find them'

'What d'you mean?' he said suspiciously, putting the boomerang back into it's holster at his back

'I mean that I've come to help you find your memories. From before your time as an immortal'

'Oh' he said simply, and sat down heavily on the grass. K'hai sat with a little more grace, and reached out a hand to his brow.

He leant away suspiciously, but at seeing the glint of determination in her eye, he sighed and waved a hand in invitation

K'hai put her fingers to his brow, and closed her eyes

'It will not work until you do the same'

Bunnymund sighed tiredly again and closed his eyes.

_My name is K'hai._ She said

_G'day to you K'hai. My name's Bunnymund_

_Are you ready to Find your memories?_

He hesitated.

_Sure, why not?_

K'hai projected the image of space around them and Bunnymund stiffened

_Yes, this was the place where you fought your most valiant battle. You flew like the wind, and no shadow escaped your blades. You kept fighting, even thought you knew deep down that all of your other people had died fighting against the shadows. Eventually, the battle ended, because all were slain. Both Pooka and shadow._

_In anguish, you brought your own blade to your throat, and were about to draw it across your vein when the Man in the Moon raised you from the ashes of battle. He made you the Guardian of Hope because you never gave up Hope, even though Hope itself had long since left the hearts of your dying people. You still Hope to this day don't you?_

_I do_

_You hope that they have reached some place better, some place that when you die in the distant future you hope to go also_

Bunnymund was now crying. Not hard, but the few little tears carried more sadness than K'hai knew.

_But you are right. There is a place, where valiant warriors spend their soul days. It is called Valhalla, and noble fighters from all races can come there as equals. People who once warred terribly in life go there, and become the best of friends. They have not left you, Pooka. They simply took a different path to their place of rest_

_That's a great comfort, K'hai. Thank you. But what about the children-_

_By the time you pass to Valhalla, another will have taken up the title, or Earth and all of it's inhabitants will have passed on also. _

_So you're saying-_

_Yes. You will be here to guard Hope until the end of this world._

_Wow. Talk about….deep_

K'hai's soul self laughed and she said

_Indeed. But it is in my nature to find the deep things_

And with that, K'hai removed her hand from Bunnymund's brow and the two rushed back to Earth. Bunnymund did not fall into a fever however, as he had not been taken to the Centre of Everything. Just distant space.

K'hai rose to her feet, and asked the thoughtful warrior a favour

'I had to come here before visiting Jack. He is on the other side of the globe, and I do not have time to travel there myself before the King wakes…'

'Uh, yeah sure, here you go'

Bunnymund opened up a portal and K'hai stepped into the void. It closed behind her silently, and Bunnymund went back to painting his egg, a lot happier for the future

~0O0~

The crushing cold and emptiness of the portal enveloped K'hai and the pressure in her lungs tripled. She confidently strode through the extra dimension even though she could not see her feet or what they were walking on.

But just as she was about to heave a desperate breath, the portal opened up and she was standing in fluffy, ankle deep snow. She Lost her animal form and Found her proper one once again. She missed the tail, but was glad to have her keen, warrior's body back once more.

Possessions walked out of the portal, along with her mount, and after they had both come through, the portal closed and Possessions gave back the bow and arrows that K'hai had given him. She shed her cloak and slung the bow over her shoulders and fastened the quiver of arrows at her hip.

Possessions took her long cloak and Lost it for her, so it would not get caught in the tall pines.

It was beautifully silent and eerie in the trees, and K'hai was in no hurry to get to the lake. So when Possessions returned from his brief excursion, he had Pitch's violin and bow in his mouth. K'hai smiled and took the instrument, carefully placing it beneath her chin.

She struck up a beautiful melody, notes rising and falling quickly and slowly, so that the song drifted through the trees like breath on the wind. She did not know that the beautiful, if sad, tune was the very same that Pitch had created when he walked through these same trees.

She made her way through the dense wood, all covered with that blanket of silencing snow.

Soon the muffled footfalls of the wolves behind her became little clicks of claws on slick ice, and K'hai stopped her playing. Possessions took the violin and bow and returned from the snow empty mouthed.

Upon the ice was K'hai's last target. His form was small and hunched, and the frost over his blue hoodie was crisp and glittering. K'hai stepped up to the teenager, who was obviously deep in thought.

Her shadow fell over him, but unlike the other Guardians, he did not react with hostility. He absentmindedly mumbled;

'Oh, hey Pitch'

K'hai smiled to herself. The King truly had a great friend in this boy.

'I am not the man of who you speak'

Jack turned upon the ice, only to be met with endless grey legs and long, dancing hair that shimmered like an oil slick.

She smiled at him, watching his reaction to her carefully

She was a little confused at the disappointment etched over his face when the King of Nightmares was not stood before him.

'It was not I you were hoping for, was it?'

'No' he mumbled.

'Pitch cannot visit anyone at this time'

Jack panicked, and stood quickly, staff ready to fire in his hand

'Why? What did you do to him?'

K'hai held her hands up in a calming motion

'He is not unwell. I showed him some memories, and when he returned to his body on this Earth, he fell into a deep sleep after a three day fever. He still sleeps now, but it will only be a few hours before he starts rising back to the surface'

Jack seemed to calm somewhat and rested the end of his staff on the ice

'Well who are you, and why are you here?'

'I believe Pitch has already told you my names'

Jack blanked out for a moment, and then his face lit with a mixture of mischief and recognition

'You're K'hai, the Guardian of Loss!'

'Indeed I am' she said, smirking.

'And I am here to Find your memories'

'But Tooth-'

'Does not have all of them. She gave you some of your memories, but you hate how it's like piecemeal. Don't you?'

Jack leaned against his staff, staring through the ice

'I do. It's like someone took them, cut them up, and stuck them back together out of order. It's so confusing'

K'hai nodded, and held out her hand to him.

Jack suspiciously took her hand and looked into her keen violet eyes

'Do you trust me?'

'I-'

'I said, do you trust me?'

He looked deeper, and despite her being grey and dangerous like the Nightmare King, he saw no malice in her starry pupils.

'Close your eyes, Jack. Relax. Sometimes words are not enough when sharing things that have been Lost'

She put her fingers to his temples, and closed her own eyes.

_It was a tragic death, Jack. The worst of all the Guardians of the Light. You and your sister were skating on the ice. You were flying across the slick surface, tugging your sister behind you. She laughed, and the lights of winter were in her eyes. But it was only just winter, and the lake hadn't frozen over properly. You were skating on the thin ice in the centre, and each cut of the blades thinned it a little more. Eventually, your sister was brave enough to skate on her own. She learnt quickly. But she fell, and the ice beneath her cracked and shuddered, spidered with fractures. You pulled her to safety with your staff, but the momentum switched your places, and it was you who was standing on the thin ice._

Jack knew how his death had gone, but with K'hai clearing the way, his memories were in order and it was almost as bad as seeing them for the first time.

_You thought the ice was going to hold. For a tense minute you stood, flinching at every little whisper and grate of the ice. But when you stepped forward, about to be in your sister's arms, the ice failed. It shattered beneath you, and plunged you into the freezing water. Your muscles froze and you could barely speak as you flailed against the surface. But your cloak was heavy, so heavy, that it tugged you down, down. And the pressure and the cold were too much. You drew a breath, and the ice water froze you from the inside out. The last thing you saw was your sister, framed by the baleful moon._

_And because you died having fun, and creating it, when the Man in the Moon raised you, and turned your hair white and your eyes blue, he made you the Guardian of Fun. Because you never stopped trying to fill the world with laughter and joy._

_But since that day when Jackson Overland died, he became infused with the cold, and the snow._

_And you became Jack Frost_

K'hai gently removed her fingers from his temples, and Jack gasped for breath as if he was drowning under the ice once more, and his body was slack with shock from the power of the images K'hai had put in his mind. She hated making him relive his death a second time, but it was the only way to reorder his childhood memories properly.

K'hai knelt to the ice with the frost boy, and his blue eyes were rimmed with red.

She opened her arms gently, and Jack fell into her hug. She was the first woman he had hugged in 318 years. He cried and cried, and the tears turned to ice in K'hai's hair, but she let him let out all the grief and loneliness and confusion of his time as in immortal.

But the Lone Rider had to leave, she could feel the King rising from his sleep, into the delicate kind that can be woken by creaking floorboards and leaking taps.

'I have to go now Jack. The King stirs, and he deserves a good dream for once, don't you think?'

Jack sniffled, and nodded weakly, as K'hai swiftly jumped upon the back off her mount. Possessions gave her cloak to her, and she pinned it around her neck with practised fingers.

'You're a Guardian now. Just because you lost one family doesn't mean you can't have another. Oh, and I nearly forgot. Tooth knows. Go find her, and show her'

And with that, K'hai kicked her wolf into the air and Jack waved after her as she disappeared over the trees. He could still hear the beautiful violin song in his mind, and somewhat sadly, he danced across the clear ice, tapping his staff here and there, tracing the routes he and his sister had taken across the ice. But the knowledge that Tooth loved him in return lightened his heart and he smiled just a little at the idea that they could be together.

Forever.

After a while, the whole surface became frosted over.

Apart from that one fateful spot that had made him a Guardian.

**AN: Ok I know I didn't get around to Pitch waking, but I think that deserves it's own chapter. And to Miss Cross, I don't really know how I get these chapters done so quickly. I think it's a combination of 4 things: 1. Procrastination 2. A little talent for writing 3. A love for what I do and 4. Reviews! Every time I get a review, I jump on my laptop and write. This story is already nearly 40 pages long, and I'm hoping you guys are okay to give me more inspiration XD**

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	13. Chapter 13: The King Wakes

A King's Queen: Chapter 13: The King Wakes

Now that K'hai had introduced herself to everyone, she rode with all haste back to the Tibetan ruins. She didn't call it a lair, as only animals have lairs.

_And whilst Pitch may look like a tiger ready to pounce, he most certainly isn't one_ she thought.

She drove the wolf faster than she ever had before, getting up to and well past half the speed of light. She still took a couple of hours to get there as the wolf had to stop now and then to rest.

Eventually though, the lush forest beneath gave way to high, unreachable mountains, and K'hai allowed the wolf to make his way through the towering rocks as he saw best. She touched down upon the warm, dancing grass, and after a quick thank you to the wolf, K'hai made her way swiftly into the heart of the ruins.

She found her way along the passages and came upon Pitch's bed chamber.

She walked in silently, knowing that Pitch was now in the state of sleep that can be woken by the drop of a pin, and took the little black pouch of dream sand from her belt. She took a pinch of the warm golden stuff, like granulated sunlight, and sprinkled a little over the King's head.

Immediately, he relaxed compared to the state he had been in before, and the sand swirled slowly above his head, as if unsure of what form it should take. After a few minutes of this indecisive however, the sand shaped itself into the image of the woman who had cast it.

K'hai watched with surprise as her golden self laughed silently, and skipped away. Her curiosity grew however, when her sand self mounted up her wolf and apparently sped off. But then Pitch upon one of his Nightmares made his way into the picture, and K'hai realized that the sand was re-enacting the first time Pitch had seen her. But instead of falling behind this time, he kept even with her, and the two of them raced, just as she had said they would.

The dream sand took the pair of them across oceans and deserts and through mountains and jungle. The dream lasted for hours, and K'hai watched as it progressed. And after thousands of miles of tireless riding, K'hai leapt from the back of her wolf and held her hand out to herself, as if inviting something. K'hai reached out to take her miniature self's hand, curious as to what would happen, but the sand grew dimmer and dimmer until it went out completely and drained away.

K'hai refocused from where her dream self had been, and when her depth perception came in, she saw Pitch smirking at her as if privy to some great secret. She realized that he had probably watched her trying to touch her dream sand self, and she frowned at this little piece of leverage he had over her.

She didn't snatch back her hand, but instead turned the awkwardness back on Pitch by lowering it to his forehead and brushing away a loose strand of hair, as a mother might to a sleeping child.

'Good morning. Or night. Or whatever the time is' he said groggily.

K'hai forced down the heat in her gut at this sleep roughened voice and made herself sit on the edge of the bed.

'What did you Find?'

He waved a hand through the air dismissively

'Oh all sorts of things that can't be described. I Found my past though, and that was the only thing that didn't make sense to me'

'Why?'

'Well…I Found it, but I couldn't see it. It was like it needed to be unlocked in some way'

K'hai nodded thoughtfully whilst Pitch stretched and sat up. She grew a little distracted at the sight of him; hair all mussed up, grey trim chest bare to the world and his voice husky with sleep.

'I know why you couldn't properly Find your past Pitch'

'Why?'

'You need someone to show it to you. Because it isn't past; it's a story'

Pitch stared off into space at this, and seemed to resign himself to more strange occurrences around K'hai. It was then he realised he wasn't just shirtless, but completely naked beneath the covers. He self consciously clutched them to his chest and startled against the headboards and K'hai, realising what he had noticed, waved Possessions out from the shadows.

'I didn't see anything Pitch. I had Possessions remove your clothes after I had put you beneath the covers'

'You…you managed to lift me?'

K'hai looked at him sharply

'What ever made you think I couldn't?'

Pitch kept quiet at this because he somehow didn't think that the slim warrior before him would appreciate being called delicate.

K'hai waved it off though, and sat herself on the bed properly, allowing Possessions to take both her sword and cloak from her. She crossed her legs and asked him if he would like to see his past

Unsurprisingly, Pitch nodded eagerly, the clutched up covers forgotten.

'But your past…it is the worst of all those that I have found'

'I don't care! Any idea of who I was before...before this!' he gestured to his grey skin, but K'hai knew he was referring to his nature of Fear.

'Very well. Close your eyes and relax. This will feel somewhat like a dream.'

Pitch obediently closed his bright gold eyes and relaxed against the dark wood of the old headboard.

K'hai closed her eyes also, and let herself feel for what Pitch had Found. To her, it did indeed come in the form of an old book, and she opened it to blank yellowed pages. But Pitch's story appeared in her mind and she retold it as gently as she could.

'You lived in a golden age. There was no hunger or disease in your world. The only war waged was the one against the darkness. For years you fought against Dream Pirates and all the fears and darkness of the universe. As you fought with all your might, you were elevated up a rank. You became General Kozmotis Pitchiner. You had a loving wife called Katherine, and when you found out that she was with child, you were overjoyed. If it was possible, you fought even harder and by the time all of the darknesses were rounded up, your wife had gone into labour.'

She could not see him, but K'hai could tell that Pitch was rapt by the fact that he did not move at all

'You rode with all haste to the hospital, but when you arrived, you were told by one of the doctors that your wife had died during labour. But that your daughter had survived. You named her Seraphina Pitchiner, and she grew so fast. When she was five, you volunteered to guard the prison in which the horrors of the world were hid in. the evil spirits there constantly taunted and abused you, but you had a locket with your daughter's picture in it and her smiling face constantly gave you the strength to ignore the evils haunting your back.'

K'hai felt Pitch suddenly grab her hand, and she held on as tightly as she could.

'One fateful day though, the spirits played a new trick upon you. From within one of the cells you heard your daughter crying for help, asking to be let out. Her voice had you under a trance, and you unlocked the door to the cell, expecting your daughter to rush out for a hug. But instead all the darknesses and fears inside poured out and your daughter's pleading voice turned to cruel mocking laughter'

K'hai drew a steadying breath and continued

'As the evils flooded out, they fed on the only pure thing in the room. They consumed your soul, tainted it and defiled your good nature into one that fed on Fear and shadows. The noble General became Pitch Black.'

K'hai could feel Pitch sobbing, but she did him the favour of not seeing the Nightmare King cry.

'Your daughter was perfectly safe though. You had no memory of her, and you fled the prison to begin your life as an immortal. She grew up to become a very interesting and incredible spirit. Seraphina Pitchiner became Mother Nature, and it is her job to oversee the balance of all those in this world. She decides which crops get rain, and which countries face drought. She creates devastating hurricanes and storms in order to give another country a warm spell. She chooses which children are born healthy, and which are to be carried to the world of the dead by Loss of Loved. She is this Earth embodied in all it's colourful glory, and yet also it's darkest and most powerful forces'

K'hai opened her eyes, but nothing met her other than empty covers. She cursed herself for not being observant enough to feel the King leave, but she let him because she knew he had to wander until he came to grips with his past.

He had to come back to her.

Pitch Black, for once, was something K'hai had no right to Find.

Instead being the one to be Found.

She hoped she wouldn't remain Lost for long.

**AN: So Pitch wakes and K'hai is left to her devices. Next chapter we see Pitch wander, return, and be taught. And K'hai also Finds the thing that she has been Searching for the most…**

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	14. Chapter 14: Find or Lose

A King's Queen: Chapter 14: Find or Lose

Pitch staggered through his ruins, for the first time struggling to find his way to the surface. He clutched and ripped at his bare chest and he was gasping for breath. Little did he know that Emotion had a strong chokehold across his neck, and that each dig of the wolf's sharp teeth sent him reeling into his confusion and fright a little more. Direction was now nipping at his heels and between the two of them, Pitch's sense of emotion was slowly ebbing away.

K'hai, once she had noticed her two most dangerous wolves gone, cursed inventively, and sprinted down the passages, turning sharp corners and twists with ease. She called Possessions to her side, and he ran swiftly with her. She told him to bring the fleeing King his clothes, and as the dark fabrics swam in between his teeth, he upped his pace a little and was off down the corridors once more.

K'hai was desperate to find him. Because if she let Emotion and Direction gorge themselves too much, Pitch could Lose his grip on his own Fear, and be overwhelmed by it. And the second time around, he might not survive.

So K'hai sprinted with all haste, now springing off the walls to save from bounding up the steps, and she popped out onto the field that Pitch kept his Nightmares in. when she saw his retreating form; he was struggling to get his clothes on. But just before she saw anything, he tugged his robe on and briefly dislodged the two wolves, vicious with their calling. K'hai called to them;

'Hrrr aaakher meneh!' _stop your actions!_

The wolves were so into their calling that they did not feel any remorse for answering it.

'Yehey aktaos, meeslek!' _This instant, mongrels!_

She received the equivalent of mocking laughter.

She played her last card

' Veit, ouit yarl ooatakaa Jolef' _Now, or I summon Loved_

K'hai was unsure as to whether Loved could ferry his own to the world of the dead, but she was willing to try.

Luckily, the wolves left the King, but circled closely, hackles raised in menace.

'Pitch! Listen to me'

He clutched at his ears, whirling in a circle. He let out a strangled cry, and K'hai's heart broke a little at the sound of his fractured soul. The memories of his past were eating him alive, so great was his grief.

'Please. Listen. You must control your Fear, or it shall consume you. And this time, it could kill you'

'Yes, yes. Please…let me die!'

She strode forwards to the King who was kneeling helplessly on the dancing grass. Full of rage and hurt and all sorts of other confusing signals that Emotion was feeding in, she put her hand beneath his chin and easily lifted the King into the air with one hand. He clawed and scratched at her strong grip despite the fact that he could not die from her hold.

'You will listen, Nightmare King. I can give you one day to conquer your grief and Fear. One day to stave off Loss of Direction and Loss of Emotion. But then they shall break my hold and _they will hunt you down'_

She raised him a little higher, so he saw every spark of determination and anger in her literally flashing eyes. They danced with violet fire, and her wide pupils had gone down into cat eye-like slits.

'And when they Find you, they will rip every part of your mind to shreds and I will _not be able to stop them_. Stay here, flee, do what you will, but mark my words; if you do not heal your wounds of Fear and Loss, I can do _nothing_ to stop you from becoming an empty shell of a creature!'

At this last part, she held his face close to her own, and hissed the words into his whirling eyes. She threw the King down upon the ground and stood, shaking with the rage and anger that her direct link with Emotions was giving her. She viciously kicked the hungering wolf and he flew to the other side of the meadow, unconscious for now.

Now feeling her usual calm and collected self, she whistled one of the Nightmares over and handed her reins to the King, who was rubbing at his throat and scowling in her general direction. But when she heard him accuse her from behind, Emotions had nothing to do with her simmering anger and vexation.

'What gives you the right to simply stride out of the snow and tell me things that had been Lost for a reason! And how do you know that I will die if I don't collect myself?'

She hunched her shoulders, and the cold glare she gave to him could have cut a man in half. But the shivering King held his ground, even as she rested a hand upon the hilt of her sword. She whispered acidly at him, afraid she would shout otherwise. And she knew that none could withstand the force of her enraged voice.

'I have the right to tell you because it is my _calling_, my _nature_. In the same way yours is Fear and the causing of it. I take sustenance from answering _my_ call, the same as _you_. And how do I know that you will die if you don't collect yourself? _Look at them_. It is answer enough'

She pointed a finger at the wolves. Direction was standing in a fighting stance, head low to the ground, tail swishing. And Emotion was shaking himself, and pacing with a snarl upon his lips, despite the killing, crushing blow that K'hai had dealt him not minutes ago.

'Nothing can stop them from answering _their_ call, Pitch. But I can give you time to run. Or time to fight. It is your choice.'

'What does it matter if I die?' he said, teeth chattering from shock.

'If you die, so does Fear. And as appealing as that sounds, without Fear, the Lights of Hope, Wonder and Fun cannot shine anywhere near as brightly. For them to live, so must you. Your death would cause a great imbalance in the universe that could potentially send every living soul to the world of the dead. You cannot die for the sake of the Light Pitch, but I am helpless to stop it if you will not fight'

He gritted his teeth and threw the reins of the Nightmare away.

'If my life means so little yet so much, let's see if you are willing to kill me to save your own'

And with that, he formed up a great scythe of sand and readied it in his hands. As soon as she had seen the grains begin to tie together though, K'hai had drawn her sword and swung it in a singing circle before Pitch had even fully formed his weapon.

'You do not want this fight Pitch' she said lowly, rocking in a light crouch.

'Really? Watch me'

He swung the scythe and K'hai easily sidestepped the great blade. He whirled back on himself, putting all his weight behind the swing. K'hai leaned over backwards, so much that she should've fallen over, but when the scythe snaked across the air back and forth, she simply turned her lithe form over and over in back flips so that the slicing metal came within millimetres of her abdomen.

Pitch slowed his attack, and K'hai used this to tumble to the side, and swinging both her legs swiftly, knock Pitch's out from under him.

The scythe crashed to the grass and melted away.

K'hai rolled and threw her feet up and back to the ground so that she rippled upwards, and within an instant she had the great war sword's tip resting at the skin just beneath his chin. He raised his chin to try and get away, and in return she raised her sword hand so that the tip drove downwards once more.

Pitch held a death glare with her and she spat to him;

'One day'

And she flicked the sword from his skin, leaving a tiny, shallow cut in the middle of his throat even though it had barely touched his skin. She drew away with a flourish and spun the sword back into it's holster. She stalked away across the grass, and back into the ruins without a single glance back.

Pitch gritted his teeth once more and wobbled to his feet. He stiffly vaulted onto the back of his mount and kicked her up, into the bright blue sky.

And K'hai knew when the King fled.

When he started his clock ticking.

Because she heard, both next to her and echoing through the world a low howl of challenge.

The wolves knew their prey had chosen to run.

K'hai wept a single tear of Fear in the shadows.

And the wolves ran tirelessly after their quarry, thought it would be a day before they could attack proper.

The hunt was on.

**AN: probably gonna be the last chapter till the weekend because A. I am back at school now and B. all through January, I have 4 science GCSE's, so I won't be able to update as often. Reviews will keep me afloat through these dark times of exams, so they are much appreciated ;D**

**Reviews=surviving exams,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	15. Chapter 15: The Hunt

A King's Queen: Chapter 15: The Hunt

The King was filled with panic. He blindly drove his Nightmare into the air and across oceans as fast as she would let him. Still he pushed her, and after several hours of nonstop riding, the immortal creature was trembling and foaming at the mouth.

Pitch managed to touch her down upon the distant shores of America, in a quiet little pebbled beach. The mare collapsed onto the rocks, wheezing. She would not die, for shadows and Fear are infinite. But she was as close as it was possible for her to be.

Pitch, on the other hand, was dangerously close to losing control. He was so overcome by grief and pain and confusion that his thoughts had no logic, and he shivered and stumbled in the warm breeze. His entire world was a-blur and no one thing was certain. His mind spiralled down and down until he was reduced to only animal instincts; everything else was too much to bother with.

The King clutched and tore at his chest, and his dull nails drew red gashes across his arms, face, and neck. His hair became matted, greasy and dull and hung in dishevelled spikes and threads. His grey skin was slick with clammy sweat, and his breaths were heaving and wrought with coughs.

The Fear and everything were overcoming him. The shocks of his memories, which had unlocked terrible images deep I n his psyche, were consuming him and Pitch was in danger of losing both his mind, and life.

He fell to the stones, and he shut his eyes to the world. The Nightmare lay still. Rain fell in steady sheets, and Nature began to absorb the King. The pebbles shifted. Water fell down.

And all too soon, he looked like just another rock upon the shore.

~0O0~

Back at the ruins, K'hai was beside herself. Emotions and Direction were gnawing at the corners of her mind, redoubling the worry and confusion and helplessness that lay there. She strode the halls irritably, and in the end decided to try and Lose her physical self to Find her sense of direction once more.

She downed three bottles of _Ta'Hissk, _and still she struggled to achieve the odd feeling of drift that led her to the Centre of Everything. But after an hour of sweat and toil, she slipped free of her body and soared into the bright nebula and stars of the Centre.

She turned languidly in the air, emotions halved down to what they should be. She was still rabid with terror and worry, but it was nothing compared to her state of mind around the wolves. Luckily they had remained Earthbound, their calling to Pitch too strong to follow her.

She used her warrior's intuition to stamp down her fears and worries until they were but tiny sparks that drifted off into space. She gathered herself and raising her arms, bolted through the Centre and began to Search. She knew not what she Searched for, but the great halls of items Lost were so immense that the floor and ceiling faded into mist, and walls were millions of miles apart.

She followed the deep rooted sense of her fear, and traced it back to it's source. She knew that her fear was on a direct link with her illness, and she had no trouble in Finding the small, paper wrapped bundles. She tore one open, and the light cream fabric fell easily through her fingers. She gathered them up and folded them into her cloak and continued to Search.

She followed the same draw, and came upon an item so precious as to entirely encompass Pitch's past, present and future. The light silver fell into a pouch on her belt.

She tore through piles of old junk and unrecognisable objects, and when the dark gleam of gold and smooth wood met her feverish hands, she heaved the great relic out of the pile and strapped it across her back.

She had Found all she could here, and now was the hard part. Searching for something that had no form.

K'hai was immensely stressed about a situation that she knew was brewing, and could erupt at any time. She knew there would a titanic battle to end all wars, and that it would be soon. But she needed a date.

She swiftly settled herself in the Centre and cast her mind adrift on the cosmic currents. After hours of Searching, she felt the rush of blood In her soul, and she rushed back to her mind to see that she had Found how long it would be until the enemy launched it's attack.

3 months.

So much time, yet so little. She had so much to teach him, but first he needed saving.

So K'hai summoned her finest cloak, and strongest Obsidian, and clothed herself in the iron of stars and the steel of supernovas.

Now wearing godlike armour, that was not even her full war dress, K'hai anchored herself back to her body and rushed back to Earth.

But when the stale air of the ruins tumbled into her lungs, she felt no doubling of panic. But it doubled anyway.

Because the wolves were gone.

And for all she knew, Pitch's mind could be in shreds.

But without him, the war could not be won.

So she heaved herself to her feet and flew like the wind to Find the King.

Because if he died, so did she.

And for the Light to shine as bright there has to be Darkness for it to shine against.

And the dark sparks were almost gone.

**AN: Weird chapter I know, but I tried. Also, I have a to go to a funeral tomorrow and I feel so sick for thinking that with everyone being in black, we're all going to look like Pitch minions or something :S**

**Reviews Welcome,**

**Tigress In Da Room**

**XXX**


	16. Chapter 16: The Guardian of Everything

A King's Queen: Chapter 16: The Guardian of Everything

K'hai rode faster than she ever had before. The wolf before her jumped through the sound barrier. Then the light barrier. And within seconds they were travelling as fast as Time itself. Her figure stretched and flexed in the knotting dimensions, and her every fibre almost ripped itself away from her soul and into the infinite space.

So great was the journey that K'hai Lost her perception of time and everything was measured in one more.

One more beat of the heart.

One more thunder of heavy paws upon the celestial fabric.

One more breath of empty air.

One more moment of panic.

It felt like an unending stretch of time to her. But she still rode with determination, despite the Fear that laced around her heart and mind.

In truth, she found her way to the dying King within seconds. With a boom loud enough to rattle the rocks, K'hai and her wolf emerged out onto the endless beach of grey pebbles. She was not sure if it was anywhere on Earth, or if it was anywhere real at all. The ocean was languid and repetitive, washing the same round stones over and over with little more than a whisper. There was no wind. No sound. The gentle curve of infinite pebbles, all grey, stretched out as far as the eye could see, and the beach blended seamlessly into grey, colourless wastelands.

The place did not seem foreboding or dark in anyway. Rather that it was simply empty of everything. As if it had been lost to the elements eons ago. It felt like a place that waited. As if it was more of a way place than anywhere that intended to stay in reality.

Despite the lack of colour, wind and sun, the stones felt warm beneath K'hai's bare feet as she leapt delicately from the wolf's back. She knew that she had arrived as fast as she could. Unsurprisingly, the wolves were there.

But both Loss of Emotion and Loss of Direction were laid upon the smooth stones. They looked to be asleep, their chests rising and falling gently. Emotion even had his white belly to the air, paws all folded up neatly as if bathing in nonexistent sun. Instead the light here seemed to come from the dreary, clouded sky and lingering fog that shrouded this place.

They looked content.

And well fed.

She quickly stepped across the warm stones, the rocks shifting slightly beneath her shadow steps. She knelt to the beach, and she felt herself sink into the stones a little more than she should have, as if they were draining away beneath her.

She felt rather than knew that despite it's outward calm and continuity, she could not stay at this place for long. For the beach itself was moving on through existence to find a new home soon.

She saw his grey skin, damp with sweat, and his black hair, usually sleek and shining, dull and dishevelled against the stone. He was curled in on himself, and the stones had already consumed his feet and ankles.

She shakily put a hand to his forehead.

And was met with ice.

Quickly she grasped his shoulder and gently rolled him so that he was on his back. His keen eyes were shut, and his mouth was set in a line that only just hinted at his inner turmoil. K'hai tore off her cloak and bundled it beneath his head. He remained the peaceful ghost upon the stones.

Her fingertips danced haltingly over his cheekbones, shoulders, knees. She couldn't bring herself to touch his apparently dead body.

K'hai felt her throat clench, and a tear crawled down her cheek. She put her hand behind his neck, and her other arm beneath his knees. As gently as possible, she picked up the King and settled him in her lap. His head lolled loosely upon her bare shoulder.

He still smelt of crisp sand, decadent coffee and just a touch of polished metal.

She was no lover of his. But just because she was the Guardian of Loss does not mean that she cannot mourn the passing of each leaf. Though she cannot pause to stop it.

Quietly she began to sing to him. Her voice was pure and clear, though quiet. And in the intense silence of the place, her voice carried on forever.

'_Hush Hush, don't cry. No tears in your eyes when dragons fill the skies'_

'_Hush hush, don't cry. These creatures never lie.'_

'_Hush hush, don't cry. These noble creatures fight the night'_

'_Hush hush, don't cry. The evil's gone by'_

'_Hush hush; don't cry when dragons fill the sky'_

'_Hush hush; don't cry when dragons fly by. Hush hush, don't cry, never cry'_

'_Hush hush, hush hush, don't cry, don't cry when dragons fill the sky'_

'_Hush hush'_

Her last words were no more than a whisper, and her thin tears fell upon his cold skin.

She allowed herself one shuddering breath, and then she rose from her kneel with strength and grace, not struggling at all with the King's tall frame.

'Loved. Show yourself'

'I am here my lady'

The great black wolf jogged from the mist and sat himself before her.

Emotions twitched an ear lazily.

K'hai shifted Pitch a little in her arms, and asked the great wolf before her;

'Why have you not yet ferried him?'

The answer was quick and almost confused. As if he did not quite understand her.

'Because I have no need to ma'am'

K'hai frowned at the wolf, and took a step towards him, but the wolf shied his head.

'He is not yet Lost'

Her heart leaped with hope, and she glanced intensely at the King's face. But it remained cold and still. No flicker of life there.

She started to turn slightly

'But…If that is the case, why are Emotion and Direction so content?'

A great shadow fell across her, and the pebbles shuddered slightly with the force of a great landing.

For the first time since her change, K'hai felt fear real and quick leap into her heart, the kind that cannot be harnessed and converted into strength.

Her bones began to shake, and her face bore an expression of bewilderment and terror.

She turned slowly, and was met with a sight so utterly horrific she could barely contain her rabid soul.

For before her, on the beach, was an immense dragon.

As soon as she met it's clear green gaze, she stumbled back across the stones and stumbled into Loved, but he gently nudged her back to her feet.

'w-what are you?'

The dragon straightened it's great head, but it spoke in her mind with an androgynous voice, as if it had no gender.

'I am Ressmir. Guardian of Everything'

'But what side do you align yourself with?'

She asked this out of curiosity. The dragon had pale milky skin covered with irregular scales of dark brown, and it's eyes were large and gentle. But they were now a crisp blue like that of a water nymph. It had a great crest of what looked like fiery seaweed, and it's bones were slim and delicate.

There were no horns or sharp barbs to this dragon, yet it's mouth still held the sharp fangs that denoted all creatures of the darkness, and it's underbelly was a pale grey.

It had no limbs other than the great pale wings that it had folded neatly, and it's long sinuous body was curled and laced around itself.

'I am the Guardian of Everything. I am neither a creature of the Darkness or the Light'

'so you hold power over everything?'

The dragon swung it's great head and looked out to the sea

'To some extent'

K'hai's face lit

'Then you can wake him!' she held her arms out to the dragon, expecting it to wake the Lost King in her arms.

The dragon was wistful

'I cannot'

'But you said so yourself, you're the Guardian of Everything!'

'Yes. But not the Guardian of whatever realm this man has lost himself in'

K'hai furrowed her brow in question

'Whilst I may be the overseer of these worlds that I take beneath my wing, I hold no sway over them. I can simply observe and request of others below me to work their magicks'

'So why create Darkness in the first place?'

The dragon closed it's eyes, as if in deep thought.

'It is a balance. Without the Darkness, how would we know what the Light appears as?'

K'hai nodded in agreement

'Even I do not know quite why this balance is essential to all. I simply feel the need to create and maintain it. It is like a…'

'Calling' K'hai finished softly

'Indeed. A calling.'

'But where does your call come from, if you are the creator?'

'It is simply a demand of existence. Nothing can exist without balance; it is a requirement of existence and being. Everything that exists, from each atom in each speck of dust to the most powerful creatures other than myself. All of their existences are like a pulse in the fabric, and that pulse becomes a wave of energies that tugs and pulls like a waning tide'

'So the calling comes from everything?'

The dragon nodded

'So where did you come from, if your calling is one of balance and creation? How did you come into existence, and then make everything else?'

'Ah, that is a great question young one. I have always been. I am past, present and future and everything that has, or will be. And with my existence, there was something that existed. So I felt the call to create, to balance. So first I formed my body. Then space. Then stars, planets, moons. I created the elements, and from the dusts of the four winds I created plants and animals, even those too small to see with the bare eye. And finally, I created life.'

K'hai marvelled at this incredible being. Even in her own near infinite years, K'hai was struggling to understand the concepts that this dragon spoke in. it was obviously of infinite age, with it's creation coming from it's existence from it's creation. It was an infinite time-loop paradox that had no beginning and no end.

'It was difficult to create sentience. Intelligence. I tried to replicate my own mind, but the mortal bodies could not handle it. So I created the immortal races of Light and Dark to make them for me. You were much more able than I to see how best thought should exist. Your existences gave me a template, and I copied this in the billions of mortal races that are today'

'So you created us from mortals who you created from us?'

The dragon nodded sagely

Another infinite time loop.

'How did you know what distinguishes creatures of the Darkness from creatures of the Light?' K'hai said, gesturing to her grey skin and black hair.

'That too, was learnt from the mortals. They told me what the darkness looked like, so I made you like that when I made them. It is another knot in the fabric of time, I am afraid'

All of the paradoxes and loops were beginning to make K'hai's head spin.

'But why create us how you did? If you could start again, would you?'

The dragon looked at her with something that can only be described as a smirk.

'I created how I did because I let existence run free. All things and beings that exist today are nothing more than pure expressions of creativity. And I would go back and start again, purely to see how the universe would turn out differently. But I would never aim to create perfection, because that itself is an impossible task. Everyone's perception of perfection is different and it evolves too fast to capture properly. However, I think you amongst the other Guardians, were the closest I managed to get before Perfection struck forwards once more'

K'hai asked of the dragon once more;

'If he is not truly Lost, can you show me how to Find him?'

The dragon blinked slowly and drew a deep breath. It gave a slow little nod, and then gently lowered it's head until it was looking straight into her eyes. K'hai found the crystal gaze almost hypnotic.

'Are you ready to Find him?'

'Yes' she whispered

And with that the dragon touched it's nose to her forehead, and K'hai was Lost to everything.

Her body crumbled. Her knees hit the stones heavily, and then the rest of her fell flat to the ground. Her mind was elsewhere.

And her body was dead.

The two lay cold upon the stones, twined gently around each other like yin and yang.

The dragon nodded it's head slightly in satisfaction and opened it's great wings. The pale sails trembled and shimmered in the brightening sunlight, and the creature stretched it's neck up to the sky, long and graceful.

And with one almighty beat of it's wings, the dragon propelled itself into the air. It flew with languid strokes out to the horizon, where a baleful red sun was rising. As soon as it's light broke over the horizon, flooding the grey land with colour, Ressmir reached the peak of it's ark of flight and twined it's neck sinuously down to the breaking waves.

And dove beneath the surface like a shot.

Immediately the dragon's form dissipated, and Ressmir once more became a part of Everything.

The flooded land crumbled, and the stones dropped away.

And the two Dark Guardians were plunged into an infinite abyss.

Perhaps never to be Found again.

**AN: Another strange chapter, but it needed writing. Also, to my readers who have commented about my style of writing, perhaps you would enjoy some of my other writing, which you can find here: ?m=1&do=work&who=22528**

**If the link doesn't work, just copy and paste it into the address bar. I've written all sorts, but my most viewed pieces are the erotica x rated (unsurprisingly) if any of you guys have profiles on WN, send me a message or a review or something, or even better, join my fan club ;D**

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**

**PS: to my reviewer, I think that choice of music is a perfect way to describe Pitch and K'hai at the moment. But I promise, the sad and angsty chapters are almost over!**


	17. Chapter 17: Fighting for the King

A King's Queen: Chapter 17: Fighting for the King

K'hai felt herself fall away from her body, down and through the infinite beach of grey pebbles. Before she disappeared beneath the surface, she saw the Guardian of Everything beat it's wings once and rise into the sky with all the majesty and grace of a falling leaf.

She was unsure of whether she had Lost her body, and whether the fall would be hard. So she quickly dropped whatever form she had now and Found her fae one. She twisted and tumbled in the rushing wind, and the pebbles and their shadows around her drew close and formed up into her wings. The great swathes of feathers snapped and flailed in the rush, and she struggled to right herself.

She managed to turn though, and with a great opening of sails, drew her legs close and threw her arms wide as the sudden resistance of the air on her wings slowed her considerably. The pebbles fell down thunderously though, and amongst the quick blur of stones, she saw a dark and blurred shape.

It took her a moment to remember the King, and in a heartbeat she slicked her tall body down into a dart, and wrapping her wings close to her body, dove through the torrent of rushing rocks. She flicked her wings instinctively to move through the air, and she drew closer to the King every second that passed.

Just as she was about to take a hold of his billowing black robe, the fabric slipped her fingers and a particularly hard torrent of pebbles smashed into the back of her head. The force of it broke one of her wings, and she screamed in agony.

The dark warrior plummeted onwards, and the ground met her with a cold fist.

She lay there, struggling for breath. Her chest rose and fluttered, and a cut upon her brow trickled blood down her face and neck. She was perfectly motionless, but she could both smell and feel the fetid presence of condensed evil, darkness and something else. Something that smelt like rotting metal.

Fear.

The hateful mixture was everywhere. The black soil was infused with the sticking substance, and she could see from the corners of her eyes that it was slowly turning over and into itself, as if creatures were caught in it, but could never be granted the mercy of drowning.

K'hai gritted her teeth and heaved a deep breath. She flexed her body in a smooth ripple and landed lithely on her sooty feet. She put two fingers to her brow and slicked them in her own blood.

As a warrior, the scents of Fear and blood mixed meant only one thing.

Battle.

She had the fires of rage and bravery set in her eyes, and she drew the bloodied fingers across her unstained cheek, putting on her war paint. She drew her sword with a flourish, and held the great blade aloft. She cast up a ball of pure darkness, and because it was so condensed, it gave out reverse light. Whereas there had been an absence of anything, there was now darkness that K'hai could see just as well in as if it were a summer's dusk.

She drew a deep breath in, and could taste the Fear upon her tongue. She felt a rush of wind behind her, and in the distance of this great underground cavern, a great tide of evil was rising. It roiled and tumbled, engulfing everything in it's path.

Viciously, K'hai spat her own blood at the inky wave and drew her dagger a well. She kept her body low and well balanced. With a quick push, she jumped into a quick sprint. Her wings were long gone now, but the searing pain remained in her back as if the bone was still exposed and smarting.

She sprinted with ease, springing and jumping off the uneven black rocks, with bold strata running through them like lifeblood. She felt the call deep in her soul, and she followed the instinct as a wolf follows the scent of fresh blood.

She could feel the tide drawing nearer, but she daren't look back. There was an area that her darkness couldn't reach though. Up ahead, a bright teal glow rose up into the infinite air, and there was a roiling mass of black around it.

But as she drew nearer, she saw that it wasn't the sticky evil that danced there.

In a brief second, a part of the black rose up and in a perfect silhouette, was a rearing mare, sharp hooves flying and long mane flicking.

But just as quickly as the Fearmare had showed herself, she joined the mass once more.

K'hai felt all of her rage boil into one and she let forth an ear-splitting war scream that only comes from true hatred of the enemy. K'hai braced herself against a rock and jumped into the air.

The war cry was so strong that a great pulse of energy emanated from her shout and blasted a clear area into the roiling mass of Fear.

She gripped her sword so tightly in her hands that her knuckles went white with the strain and she raised the keen blade above her head. She drew her knees in close and pulled her shoulders back. Her face was set in a canine snarl of enragement and anger.

Time slowed.

She was a fierce and wild thing. Her hair flew. Her fangs glistened. A snake of light travelled up the sleek, leading edge of her honed blade. With a canine roar, she brought all of her weight and force down, behind the sword and plunged it with all her might into the back of the rearing Fearling.

She landed on the creatures back, and it writhed and twisted in it's death throes. She twisted the blade with a sickening crunch of metal on bone and withdrew the mighty sword. Pushing off from the corpse of the Fearling, she launched herself sideways and as she twisted through the air, she flicked the sword out straight. It embedded itself in the chest of a creature too grotesque to describe, and K'hai hauled the blade upwards and split the thing in two.

She strode across the clear space with her shoulders tensed and her mouth set in a grim line. She began to swing the sword in her hand until it was flying round in a blur. She pulled her shoulder back and launched the blade straight through the darkness towards the teal glow.

It drilled through all that stood in it's path and a resounding thunk of metal and glass echoed around the chamber. Showing no mercy, K'hai slipped the dagger from the sheath on her calf, and drew the sharp blade across the throat, through the eye or down the belly of anything that remained alive. She made her way through the dying Fearlings in moments, and her bare feet landed upon cool glass steps.

She began walking up the flight of stairs to the great altar that was there. The teal light seemed to come from within the glass, and it glowed brighter in a little pulse everywhere that K'hai stepped. She flicked the blood from her brow, and shook her hands twice to fling off the blood and gore of the Darknesses she had slain.

There was no mercy in her eyes.

A Fearling lay floundering up ahead, it's hooves flailing and striking out. Not even looking at it, she hauled it upright and slashed the blade across it's throat. The warrior moved on.

She could now see that above the altar of glass was a great pillar of the same material, hanging from the ceiling far above. And in the narrow gap between the two was a bundle of dark fabric.

K'hai quickly sheathed her dagger, and began to run up the steps. She yanked her sword from the glass on her way and put that too beck into it's sheath.

She skipped and danced around the fallen corpses and their oozing blood with ease and predatory grace. She put her hand on the far shoulder of the King and rolled him onto his back. There was a great gash down the side of his face, neck and it led all the way down to his ankle.

K'hai chewed her lips and decided to deal with the cuts later.

But first she picked the King up in her arms as if he weighed no more than a sack of feathers. She jogged him slightly to get a better hold, and turned back t see that the great wave of darkness was now crashing into the steps bellow.

She quickly closed her eyes, and struggled to Find her Fae form. But when the searing pain in her back redoubled, she knew she had the form once more.

The wing still lay limp and broken at her side, but after quickly shifting the King over to her good shoulder she drew a deep breath and yanked the mass of feathers out to her side. She roared in pain, but the bones settled back in their proper places and K'hai felt the bones knit together instantly.

She shifted the King back into her arms, and his head drooped unsupported over her elbow.

She crouched and beat her wings once.

Twice.

Three times. And finally, the air caught, and she lifted clear of the rising tide of filth and evil.

She kicked her foot a little and shook off the few drops of the wave that had managed to catch her and beat her wings harder. The pain was excruciating, for there was strained and torn muscle there, but she soldiered on.

She flew in a tight spiral around the rising column of glass, trying to escape the tide of evil that still rose. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now and her whole body hurt and screamed in agony.

But the teal light was growing brighter and brighter, and it was so bright that she had to close her eyes and once more the rocks were falling around her and she could do nothing but let herself fall into the light.

K'hai drew her last breath and said as loudly as she could over the thunderous rock fall, to him, to everyone she had failed;

'I am sorry. I have failed all of you'

And the Light engulfed the creatures of the Dark.

AN: don't worry, they haven't died. Yet. I hope you enjoyed this dramatic and grim chapter, but I promise, no more fighting and death and agony for a while yet :D

Tigress in Da Room

PS: I couldn't help but notice how quiet it's getting on the reviews front lately…


	18. Chapter 18: Revival

A King's Queen: Chapter 18: Revival

Once more, K'hai felt herself land hard on the ground. But this time, she didn't have the strength to get up. Her mind roared and raced, but her body struggled and flailed weakly like a choking engine. His breaths were quick and shallow, and her abdomen wavered in the warm air.

It took her a while to register that the light remained bright. And it was sweet, keen blue.

Like a clear summer's sky.

K'hai blinked, and brought a few fluffy white clouds into focus.

She weakly clenched her fists, and she felt lush grasses fill her palms and her sharp nails dig into soft earth. The place smelt like fresh pollen and washed sheets. It reminded K'hai of home.

But that was long gone.

So the warrior drew a deep breath and managed to haul herself up. Her ribs screamed in agony, but she could tell that the broken bones were settled in their proper places. Those in her wing, however, were not.

The fracture had become disjointed by the harsh fall and K'hai knew that the bones needed to be set quickly. But she had other things to attend to.

Pitch had fallen a few metres away, and now there was grass and earth in the great gash along the side of his face. K'hai spat blood out into a patch of meadow flowers and limped over to where the King lay. She knelt awkwardly, and laid the back of her hand against his forehead.

Still cold as ice.

K'hai then did what she had meant to do before being plunged into the other place. She settled two fingers in the hollow of his jaw, and pressed gently.

She waited a heartbeat.

And waited.

But no pulse met her hand.

Cursing, K'hai picked the King up once more in her arms and searched for somewhere, anywhere, she could lay him. Upon the top of a small rise she saw a flat topped stone.

Not noticing the oddity in an otherwise rock less stretch of meadow, K'hai hobbled as fast as she could towards it and laid the King gently upon the rough granite surface. With no ado, she ripped open the front of his robe, and placed her two fists above his heart. Fiercely she began to pump, fingers interlaced, as she counted over in her head.

When she reached thirty compressions, she flicked back her hair and pinched his nose shut. She put her lips to his, and making sure she had a good seal, breathed into his flat lungs. His chest rose and fell, but then remained still.

Not even acknowledging his state of death, she began to work on this with the only cure she knew how. She began to pump his heart once more. And then fill his lungs.

She did this countless times for at least an hour, but she still didn't give up even as sweat beaded on her brow and her cuts bled freely once more. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and heaved heavy breaths that seared her abused ribs.

She was at a loss as for what to do next.

There was only one thing she knew she could try. But she didn't know if her skill was great enough.

She steadied her breaths in the bright sun, and laid her hand flat over Pitch's heart once more.

As much as she struggled, she attempted to achieve the same state of mind that allowed her into the Centre of Everything, and focused on the out of body sensation. As soon as she felt herself begin to slip though, she focused upon the pain in her ribs, her brow, and her wing. This brought her back to her body somewhat. In this way, she kept herself hovering between the soul world and the body.

She knew that spending too long in this limbo could leave her stranded between the Centre and herself forever of she wasn't careful, so she was quick to accomplish what she intended to.

She quickly thought back to all the times she had thought of, seen, or talked to the King. Recalled the sudden rush of her blood. The quickening of her heart. She felt the muscle in her chest stir dimly with the memories of him, and she used her soul self to transfer this hammering of her heart into the King's own.

She held the bond.

And then quickly crashed back into her body and put her ear to the King's chest, as well as two fingers to his vein. Silence.

All remained quiet.

K'hai felt her core rock once, and she closed her eyes against the pain. Tears leaked from her eyes.

With a violent scream of anguish and self loathing, she threw herself away from the King's body and fell into one of the carved stones surrounding the larger one that she now realized was a table of some sort.

She put both hands to her face to try, just try, to block out the hateful sun and the hateful sight of his body, so wrecked and ravaged by Fear though still looking peaceful in sleep.

She sat and cried for a long time. K'hai didn't know how long.

The sun crawled across the sky, but day did not end. A fat bumble bee droned lazily between the grasses. The peaceful world seemed to carry on turning.

But K'hai knew that what was left of the King's soul would be cast adrift, and she had to set it on it's path. She was loathed to, for as soon as the rights of passage were spoken, Loss of Loved would then be called to ferry him to the world of the dead and she would likely never see him again.

And K'hai could barely handle the thought of the crushing loneliness once more.

But the King had suffered enough. So she made herself stand tall, and pass a hand gently over his cool body. Cleansing of bodily ties. She laid a hand upon his forehead, and another over his still heart. She took a calming breath, and quietly began to speak;

'With the stars as my witnesses, may the Harbingers of the Dead hear me speak. This man has been ravaged by his own Fears, likely at my own hands. He was plunged into a world worse than that of Hell and his body had been torn beyond repair. His injuries took him, and despite my best efforts, I was unable to revive him'

Her throat tightened in alarm, but her voice did not waver.

'Upon these words, from my tongue, I commit this soldier's body, and the soul of General Kozmotis Pitchiner, to the Halls of Valour in Valhalla. May he live forever in the golden skies of the worlds. And in the hearts of those who have known him. Enemies rejoice, friends be full of sorrow. For on this day, the good General has left the ranks.'

Loss of Loved had not arrived yet, but there was one last line to be said. It stuck in K'hai's throat like treacle.

'All hail the warriors of Valhalla. Another joins your ranks. Soul, be gone'

And with that, she cast up her chin and looked to the sky. But the body beneath her palms did not dissolve into nothing as it normally would. Instead it would have seemed that Pitch was stubborn even in death.

K'hai sighed and mentally summoned the great wolf. She felt him sit beside her but he made no move. The giant creature sat patiently by her side. K'hai opened her eyes, expecting to see him gone. But instead her keen eyes saw a flicker. She blinked rapidly; sure it was a trick of the tears.

But she felt the movement as well. Beneath her hand, his heart stirred. It stumbled a little.

But quickly, Pitch's heart began to beat gently and slowly, and his chest began to rise and fall.

K'hai was frozen solid with shock, and Loved had wordlessly melted away into the long grass.

Her eyes did not leave his face for a second.

And her reward was a tired, but no less golden gaze from a man she had just raised from the dead.

Pitch smiled weakly.

And K'hai was helpless but to hug him desperately, despite the aching of her bones.

And she knew in that moment that the evil they were to fight, they would fight with valour.

And she was certain they would win.

**AN: Angsty revival chapter O.o I promise, last angst chapter ever. For now.**

**Pleeeeeaaaasssseeee guys, my reviews box is so lonely T-T,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	19. Chapter 19: A Place to Heal

A King's Queen: Chapter 19: A Place to Heal

As soon as his eyes had fluttered open, they shut once more. But at least he wasn't stiff and dead upon the stone. Now considerably calmer, K'hai set about treating their injuries while the King attempted to recuperate.

K'hai had just enough dream sand left from after his fever to keep him still in sleep whilst she ventured out into the meadows to gather various herbs. The sunlight was doing the drowsing King well, and K'hai was careful to pick plenty of herbs to cure poison and heal cuts.

She arrived back at the table with yarrow, garlic chives, snapdragon and wild indigo. She didn't question why oriental plants were growing right next to those only found in the High Arctic, but instead she brought as much as she could carry.

She carefully mashed the yarrow and gently squeezed the juices into the weeping cuts that lacerated Pitch's otherwise flawless grey skin. Whenever he threatened to rise from the still sleep he had fallen into, she waved garlic chives beneath his nose to put him back under once more. The snapdragon was ground with pure sea salt to produce an incredibly strong antiseptic and the wild indigo was used to treat inflammation. It had been a long time since K'hai had had to heal others, but she was pleased to see she had not Lost her touch.

Several hours later, she had done as much as she could for the King and herself with the plants, but his gashes and her wing needed more treatment. So K'hai summoned Possessions and asked of him in the quiet summer afternoon;

'Go and Lose the finest field stitches kit that you can. And if you can find splints and bandages, ill want those too, as many as you can carry'

Possessions nodded obediently and ran back into the grass to Lose some things.

With a bit of inventiveness, K'hai had managed to strike a fire up in one of the hollowed out stone chairs with the sharp edge of her blade against the table, and she had caught the sparks in a scrap of her ragged cape. The fire flickered and crackled cheerfully, and K'hai had used her great blade stuck into the soft mud to either dry bundles of herbs that could only be used as powders or to heat teas and decoctions with fresh spring water that welled from beneath the table over the flames. Granted, the tin cup was not brilliant, but apparently it had been the best that Possessions had to offer. At least for now.

Possessions returned, and K'hai drugged herself with as much garlic chive and pine needle tea as she dare. She laid out the splints and bandages, desperately stalling. But eventually, she had nothing left to do for herself other than set the wing.

With more care than she had time for after the battle with the Fears, K'hai firmly grasped the leading edge of her wing near the tip and pulled out as far as she could. Slowly, the fragments of bone settled grated over each other painfully until they were in their proper places. K'hai then tightly bound the wing immobile with splints and bandages. She flexed her wing at it's shoulder joint without any pain, but when she tried to bend the limb she was satisfied when she found she could not.

Now came the hard job.

K'hai carefully unpacked the field medical kit that Possessions had Lost from somewhere, and she held the sterile needle up in the sunlight. Her own cuts did not need stitches, but Pitch's did. So she carefully threaded the sharp needle and with more care than was humanly possible, slowly began to sew his wounds back together.

The spider's silk dissolved as soon as it met his flesh, and the wounds held neatly. She spent an hour stitching, but she daren't try to sew the wound on his face yet.

She fastened off her neat row of stitches along his ribs and nipped the silk clear of his skin with her sharp teeth. Then she set the needle down and gently waved a bundle of freshly cut pine needles beneath his nose. The King slowly awoke, but when he tried to rise, K'hai gently pushed him down again.

'I need you to be awake but not moving'

He remained silent, too drained to speak, but his golden eyes asked why.

'I need to see you awake so that I don't sew your face back together wrong. Don't worry; it shall heal without a scar'

K'hai then settled herself upon the stone table above his head, cross legged. She gently raised his chin so that he looked up at her upside down. She rethreaded the needle, and keenly scrutinised the lines of his jaw. Carefully holding the skin together, she began to sew with quick, neat stitches. Surprisingly, Pitch felt no pain. His eyes questioned once more.

'It's a mixture of snapdragon, yarrow, garlic chives and pine needles. I'm using them as a poultice to bring down infection and swelling, and to numb the pain. I also kept you drugged with them for a few hours while I treated the cuts.'

She was very quiet and still while she stitched, her eyes not moving.

Within five minutes or so, K'hai had all of the King's wounds sewn up and she was fairly pleased with her work. She soaked the edge of her cloak in more of the yarrow and pine needle water to cleanse and clean the stitches, as well as numb them further.

She could see that the wounds on his chest were already beginning to heal, and the immortal's body was regenerating quickly.

'I suspect you'll be back to normal within a day or so. But this is a place to heal, so it owes us no time'

With this, K'hai nipped the loose end of the spider's silk and tucked the needle back into the pouch it had come in. she rose from the table with aching joints and covered the King from the sun with what was left of her cloak.

She could just about hear the waves of an ocean crashing far off in the distance, over a couple of shallow hills. The place was nearly flat, other than these tiny little rises as far as they eye could see. And it was nothing but lush grass and bright meadow flowers to cover them.

The sky never clouded over.

The sun never rose or set.

It was perpetual summer here.

K'hai gave pitch the last of the strong anaesthetic tea, and when he was soundly asleep once more, she began to follow the little chattering brook to the rolling sand dunes.

They too only ever came to waist height, and the fresh sea wind felt beautiful in her face. It rifled through her now matted and bloodstained hair, and she could tell by the taste of the air that this was actually a great fresh water lake rather than a salted ocean.

So she gratefully took her remaining hair out of it's ragged braid and shed her covering of raw Obsidian. She stepped into the lacy waves and was soon swimming lazily in the cool water. She ducked beneath the surface and washed out her hair and turned a few languid somersaults to get the vertebrae in her spine to crack. For hours she had sat hunchbacked as she stitched the King back together.

She washed all the dried blood and sticky Fear from her hair, skin and feathers, though she made sure her broken wing remained immobile. Now finally clean, she re surfaced and strode out onto the velvety white sands.

Possessions had kindly brought her something clean to wear, as well as all of her jewellery and weapons that she had not noticed disappear from her person. She flicked her long hair back over her head and braided the top part back like she normally did.

The plain and loose black jumpsuit was welcome though, and it's soft black fabric shielded her from the bright now midday sun. She chose to spend her time until the King woke fully healed, by simply sitting on the soft sands and stroking Possession's head. He closed his bright amber eyes in pleasure and made a noise something akin to a purr.

But after an hour or so of doing this and watching the ocean, she decided that she might as well send a message to the other Guardians telling of what happened. Jack was probably worried sick.

So she sent Possessions to go and Find the required materials, and in the meantime stretched out the string of her bow. It was an elegant weapon. Thick and stout near the grip, the slender and narrow near the ends. It was almost as stall as she was, and made of the finest ebony inlaid with silver. The grip was cast metal shaped perfectly to her hand, and the string was made of pain stretched so taut it was practically a wire.

She carefully put the grip of the bow under her foot, and she pulled the string upwards as hard as she could. The supple wood of the bow creaked a little, then curved gracefully in tension and the string loosened up considerably. She did this a few times, stretching and warming up the wood. It wasn't essential, but she had to make a long distance shot and every little thing she did to prepare for it helped.

Within a few minutes, Possessions retuned with a great, sleek arrow. It was thin and long, and the tip was not swallow-tailed like her normal bolts, but instead a sleek sharp point made of black glass. K'hai took the arrow from the wolf, and twirled it around her fingers. It had perfect balance, and she settled the tip in the sand as she smoothed down fletching she had made from her own feathers, many years ago.

K'hai stopped what she was doing, and turned to face the meadow. The King stood there, hair ruffled in the wind. He was fully healed now, as was K'hai, and there was no trace of a scar on either of them. She went back to smoothing the fletching of her arrow, and then she knelt to the sand and slipped the dagger from her calf. She put the tip of the sharp blade to the wood and began to carve her message.

'What are you doing?' he asked quietly

'I am sending a message' she said, not taking her eyes from the slim shaft of the bolt.

As he watched, she finished her message and slipped the dagger back into it's sheath. She rose from her crouch and knocked the great arrow to the string. Holding the bow low, she gathered all of her strength and took the momentum from standing full and tall, legs locked, into the strength of the taut bowstring she held effortlessly in the muscles of her stomach. She raised the point of the arrow until it blocked out the sun above the ocean, and she drew the bow tighter until the wood creaked.

She held her aim.

And then she released the string. The arrow flew off and into the sky with a sharp sound as it split the air. The bolt disappeared, and the wood of her bow shimmered purple. K'hai nodded to herself at the signal of a hit.

Pitch held out his hand

'Might I have a look?'

She smirked, and gave him the quiver of normal arrows she kept at her hip.

'You can try and fire it if you want'

He seemed eager, and grasped the bow firmly around the grip. He kept settling it, but of course it didn't fit properly. He knocked an arrow and attempted to draw the string, but the bow was too strong for him and he barely managed to pull the arrow back let alone aim it.

K'hai was interested to see this, as it gave her some idea of how much training Pitch would need.

She needed the General back for three month's time.

And in that time, she also had to pay a visit to Vulcan.

K'hai sighed as Pitch attempted to draw the string once more. She had a lot to do

**AN: I didn't think I'd be begging again. But please review guys T_T.**

**Maybe if I get to fifteen reviews, I'll put the next chapter up. But until then, no more for you guys. And I mean it.**

**Reviews required,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	20. Chapter 20: K'hai's Memories Return

A King's Queen: Chapter 20: K'hai's Memories Return

K'hai looked out to the ocean, so calm and blue. The wind ruffled her loose hair gently, and she could hear Pitch behind her attempting and failing to draw the great bow. Eventually, she heard him give up and the soft thunk of the bow falling into the pale sand. He sat down with a great huff, and she turned to see him look so tired that no amount of sleep could cure it.

But the King was full of surprises, and he gently reached out his hand to her. She cautiously took it and he sat her down upon the sand across from him. He seemed to be chewing over what he wanted to say, but eventually he managed to blurt out;

'I think we both deserve some answers. You first'

K'hai opened her mouth to begin telling him she was so sorry for making him flee. Suffer. Die. But he held up a silencing finger, and adopted the posture reserved for visiting the Centre of Everything. On instinct, K'hai assumed the same posture, and closed her eyes. She began to feel herself slipping free, but he held her hands in a quick movement as if he could see her floating away. She could feel him rubbing gentle circles upon the backs of her hands, and she stiffened. K'hai had been Searching, but perhaps the reason she couldn't Find her past was because Pitch was to be the one to tell it.

Quietly, he began to speak;

'Out of all of us, I think your past must have been the worst. You fought in a great army, a league of women warriors. On your world, it was men who were seen to be the weak ones and it was the women who rode out to war. But you fought your fights against a wrath almost as terrible as the Dream Pirates.'

K'hai could feel the memories returning. The clash of swords, pounding of blood. Great war cries and un-earthly roars that could not have been anything human. She felt claws trace across her skin, and blood splatter across her brow.

Her sword began to glow by her side.

Pitch continued;

'You fought against the most terrible of mortal creatures. The dragons. They filled the skies, and the war was bloody. There were almost millions of them, and countless warriors fell beneath your command no matter how hard you tried to fight. The dragons were wining. Your women had all been slain or injured. And yet the dragons kept coming. You did not pause. Your blade rose and fell, and all of your arrows found their marks.'

He felt her slight form trembling and shuddering as imagined blows struck her, and the sounds of war called in her mind. He too had endured the memories, but it had been worth it.

'Even when your horse was ripped from you, you still fought. But you thought of nothing but Loss; the women you had lost. The lives that had been lost. The blood that had been lost. The King of the dragons was an immense creature; as big as a mountain. And when he claimed your body with fire, the Man in the Moon raised you to be the Guardian of Loss because you thought of nothing but what had been Lost, and yet you never Lost hope either. You are a creature of the Darkness K'hai, but you fight for the Light'

He opened his eyes, expecting to see tears rolling down her cheeks. But instead she had gone very still, and she chose to rise and pace across the sand. The fires of battle raged in her heart, but she dare not speak for fear of unleashing the raw power of a war cry upon the King.

She spoke as quietly as she could, but it still came out as something just barely below a shout;

'Where did you Find this?'

He rose also, and put a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

'When I had the fever, I was Searching in the Centre. I Found many things I cannot even begin to describe, and your past was one of them'

She gave something that looked like a great shiver and then her resolve hardened.

'Thank you. But I think it is you who deserves answers here, not I'

She sat upon the sand once more and felt rather than saw when Pitch was ready for her answers. She began in a dull, monotonous tone;

'As you know, you were a great general. And whilst you fled, I was Searching. I Found several things you have no right to know yet, but one of them was a date. In 3 months time, we must fight once more, or all shall cease to exist-'

He moved as if to break the hold, but K'hai tightened her grip upon his hands and kept going;

'I am truly regretful of giving you your past. I was unsure how you would react, but I needed you to know or you would not be able to fight with me in due course. I sent you to a place that is not a place, and I met someone there who was infinitely more powerful than any of us. They were the Guardian of Everything, and it has been the one to raise us as Guardians. It simply shows itself as the Moon so our minds can comprehend it. This Guardian too, only answers a calling, like us. But this call comes from existence itself, which is why we must fight'

Pitch's grip had tightened also, and K'hai took a deep breath to try and Find her train of thought.

'You were plunged into a place worse than death, and you were almost consumed by your own fear. It would have been worse than death. I managed to rescue you from the rising tide, but the shocks had been too much for your body and you had died. Somehow, I brought us here, to this place which owes us no time, and we are now healed. I spent at least an hour trying to restart your heart, and I am still unsure as to exactly how I did it. But I raised you from the dead, and now you are whole once more. The shot I took into the ocean earlier was a message to the other Guardians. They will undoubtedly want to talk with us now, and I do not know how much time we still have here. I fear that the connection to this place will sever as soon as we are truly back to strength'

K'hai opened her eyes, and Pitch did the same. But as soon as their gazes locked, each of them felt the draw deep in their beings calling away to another place. It was so strong that they both gasped at the feel of it, and both had immediately summoned and mounted their respective steeds. K'hai could not wait.

She drove her heels into the wolf's flanks, and launched him onwards until space was stretching and twisting around them once more, and the bright oceans of Earth loomed ahead.

With a great crack loud enough to shatter air, the Guardians of Loss and Fear returned.

But their business was far from done.

**AN: awkward chapter time. Found this one really hard to get out, but it clears some things up. Proper answers in the next chapter, I promise O.o also, only one more exam and then Tigress shall be a free elf once more XD**

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	21. Chapter 21: Warriors must Fight

A King's Queen: Chapter 21: Warriors must fight

When K'hai jumped through the barrier back to Earth, she had not had the chance to fully balance herself upon the great wolf. So when they spilt the air, she came half off the wolf's back and consequently threw the wolf and his thundering steps out of kilter. Much the same was happening to Pitch, but the force of breaking the dimensions had thrown him completely out of his saddle and he was hanging along by his foot in the stirrups.

K'hai saw that he was about to fall, and when he swung upwards on the next arc of his swinging path, she firmly grasped his wrist and swung him up onto the wolf behind her. The Nightmare ploughed on, and somewhat roughly, proceeded to touch down upon the grass of the meadow and regally throw the saddle from her back. The black sand blew away or melted into the ground, and Pitch cringed inwardly at his apparent ineptness.

K'hai managed to touch down with considerably more grace, and she jumped from the wolf's back so she could help the King down. He put a hand to his head and swayed slightly; K'hai stepped forward for fear of him fainting, but he held onto consciousness for the moment. Deciding he was fine now though, K'hai set about removing the splints from her wing. She slowly opened out the limb, stretching the cramped muscles. She took a few steps back and beat her wings once, twice, before catching the air and hovering. Her wing seemed stronger than ever, and K'hai was pleased with her efforts.

She landed lightly upon the grass in front of a dumbfounded King, and she had to take a moment to remember the fact that he had not seen any of her other forms. K'hai let him admire the wide wings and skirt of black peacock feathers a little longer before she was forced to change back to her normal form. In a blink of an eye, K'hai had returned, but her cloak was in tatters and her hair remained unbraided.

She tore off the cloak and threw it to Possessions, who had been summoned earlier, and preceded to braid back the top layer of her oil like hair, as she always did. Pitch pointed weakly to her and said;

'What was that?'

She smiled from under her loose hair and murmured quietly;

'It was my Fae form. I had to Lose my current form and Find that one in order to rescue us from the tide'

Pitch frowned and waved his hands exasperatedly;

'Wait wait wait. You're telling me that you can change your form now?'

K'hai blinked at him

'Everyone can. With practice. Which leads me on to what I need to talk to you about. Back at the place with no time, I told you that in three months, we need to fight. I am unsure as to what form the enemy will take, and whether or not my illness will have taken me, but I have a hunch. In three months time, we will have to fight against the Nothing, and we will need as many hands as we can get'

Pitch had now walked right up close to her, as if searching her violet eyes for signs of madness.

'What is this "Nothing" you speak of? Who will help? How are we going to be ready?'

K'hai finished braiding her hair, and she laid comforting hands upon his tense shoulders.

'The Nothing is an entity that is the exact opposite of Existence. It has no form other than an absence of anything. Even light. So it will appear as an empty black cloud. However, through means I am unaware of; the Nothing has gained self consciousness and is now setting out to consume everything that exists. And if it wins, the Guardian of Everything will be unable to create the universe and you and I and everybody else will never have been'

Pitch tried, and failed, to grasp the concept but he motioned for her to continue.

'And as for those who help, absolutely everyone will have to fight. All of the Guardians, both of Light and Darkness, the dead from the halls of Valhalla, perhaps even some of the gods. Anyway, it shall be an immense gathering of forces, and it will be the battle to end all battles. And as for getting ready, all of the other forces, except perhaps the Guardians on this earth, and of course you, are trained. So over the next three months, I need to teach you how to fight again, as well as how to make the most use of your various forms'

The King had gone very still and quiet and his mouth hung open. He felt there was no way he could even begin to fight against the entity that K'hai spoke of.

'I need the General back, Pitch. He has an army to lead. And fear not, I am the embodiment of Loss, so I will be able to teach you as much as it is possible to Lose and Find your forms. And do not forget, I was a dragon-slayer in a past life, so I know plenty about how to swing a blade too.'

Pitch sighed an immense sigh and seemed to resign himself to the fact. He began walking towards the ruins. To his pleasantly soft bed, and K'hai called after him;

'We start tomorrow! Be ready at sunrise!'

He waved a hand in her direction as a way of acknowledgement, and K'hai's wolf gently put his head beneath her hand. As she stroked absentmindedly, he put a thought in her head;

_He is going to be a difficult student to teach, my lady_

_Aye that he is. But we are going to need everyone who can stand to fight if we are to have any hope of defeating the Nothing._

K'hai looked to the bright day sky, but she could see further, could see the darkness massing and arming itself. And it frightened her.

But she shook this off, and brought Possessions to her side.

'Eya'k nepke slee'khala. Itakep letta oorup. Yeh armra un aramis' _go to Vulcan. _ _Tell him we need as much armour and as many blades as he can forge in three months. We must arm an army._

_It will be done_ he replied, before running tirelessly up and away into the sky.

K'hai was too tense to sleep. So when she and her wolf lay down to the soft grass, it was not to rest.

But to keep watch against the horrors of the night.

**AN: Next chapter and we see Pitch learn how to fly and fight in the sky.**

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	22. Chapter 22: First Flight

A King's Queen: Chapter 22: First Flight

Although he did not need to, Pitch slept well. It was his way of starting on a clean slate, making sure he was completely ready for whatever K'hai had in store for him. He slept deeply and without dreams or nightmares, and when the sun kissed the horizon, one of his Nightmares gently nudged him awake as he had asked her to.

Sleepily, he stretched like a cat, and dressed in a loose shirt and riding pants. He chose something that was comfortable and good looking, but not his finest. For all he knew, K'hai might be waiting outside to drag him through muddy puddles for the rest of the day.

As he made his way up to the meadow, the Nightmare followed him quietly and in a few minutes, both were out on the mossy stone steps. Pitch could see K'hai, sitting out on the middle of the grass in the full, if weak, sunlight. He saw that she had changed into a plain black jumpsuit, and was without her cape.

As if she knew he was there, she gently patted the spot of grass next to her and resumed her cross-legged but alert posture. Pitch walked down the steps, shivering in the cold morning air. When he sat next to her as she ordered, she did not open her eyes. Pitch drank some of the _Ta'Hissk _that she offered him, and as the liquid slid down his throat, his mind felt loose and open.

'Are you ready to fly, good King?'

He nodded slightly, and she seemed to return to her body somewhat.

'It is as easy as going to the Centre. Let your mind drift and become separate from your body. And then bring yourself back. The easiest way to do this is to focus on the feeling of the wind upon your skin, the sun upon your face. And as you bring yourself back, imagine your body becoming lighter, nimbler, and more birdlike. Imagine a form that will allow you to leave the boundaries of this earth, and become a creature of the air….like so'

When Pitch opened his eyes, he saw that she had grown her great wings once more, and that her tail of black peacock feathers was spread elegantly out upon the step behind her. As he had been yesterday, he was awestruck by the sheer grace and power her Fae form implied.

K'hai took a deep breath and shivered. She opened her eyes, and met his gaze for the first time that morning. Pitch was unsure as to what would happen next, but when she rose, she gently pulled him to his feet. And that was when he felt the change.

His balance had shifted backwards ever so slightly, and he could feel the wind over more of him. When he looked behind his shoulder somewhat dubiously, he was surprised to see the great black dragon's wings folded there. As easily as lifting up an arm, he unfolded one of the great sails, and the thin skin stretched across three bones shimmered like an oil slick. He carefully touched one of the sails, and it felt slick and smooth, but warm. He turned so that the sunlight struck the skin, and he could see many purple veins crossing through the membrane.

K'hai was examining his wings also, but she was interested by his Fae form. He would not be as agile in the air as her, but he would we marginally stronger and perhaps a touch faster. K'hai would have to take this into account.

'Can you feel it?' she asked quietly

'Feel wha-'Pitch's question was cut short, because he could feel something, something different. Like the call and draw, but lighter, as if it was tugging him towards the sky.

'You will not be able to fly straight away. You must learn the same way as you learnt to walk'

He nodded weakly. K'hai smiled encouragingly and took a few steps back.

'Just hold your wings aloft. Get used to the feel and weight of them. They are extensions of yourself, but they move completely differently to any other part of your body'

As instructed, he held both limbs out, and he was surprised by the span of his wings. K'hai mirrored him, and he was even more surprised to see that her wingspan perfectly matched his own.

'Can you feel the extra muscles in your back and shoulders? The way they move and ripple as you fold and unfold your wings?'

Pitch tested this, and he did feel the muscles move.

'Good. You are a fast learner. We have only been here an hour, and already you're are gaining some dexterity'

He blinked at this. It had only felt like moments to him.

'Now you are ready to strengthen yourself. It takes a great deal of energy and power to lift yourself. Copy my movements'

As she said this, she stepped back, and drew her wings high up above her head, as far back as she could. In one great sweep, she beat them, and the backwash of air made the King stagger.

He stretched out his own sails, as she had done, and brought them down towards the ground. He felt himself step back, and saw K'hai's hair blow black slightly. It was nowhere near as forceful as her wing beat had been, but he was getting there.

'Now do it over and over until you tire. You may find it easier to do this in a crouch.'

He flicked her a cautious glance, but she knelt with him, one knee to the stone. As she held her wings out, flat, he did the same. He could feel the bone rotating in it's socket as it should.

'Draw up'

In synchrony, she raised her wings straight up, the tips nearly touching.

'And draw down as hard as you can whilst pushing up from the ground. Otherwise your wings will foul on the stone, and trust me when I say this, it is exceptionally painful.'

He gritted his teeth and with all the power he could muster, brought his sails down and his knees up. He felt his feet leave the ground and he panicked. His wings snapped and flailed, and he had started to fall when K'hai caught him beneath the arms and pulled him forward. On instinct, his wings righted and he began to hover as she did with slow, powerful strokes. Very carefully, K'hai slipped her hands from his and he wobbled just slightly before he learnt how to get his balance. He brought his knees up slightly, and put his arms out just a little, and he found that he could keep his orientation in the air.

'Congratulations Pitch. You've just learnt how to fly'

His face cracked into a mile wide grin, and he felt laughter bubble in his chest. Within moments, the hearty sound echoed out across the cliffs, and K'hai was smiling widely also.

'Now beat as hard as you can, and raise yourself in the air. When you reach the peak of the arc, tuck your wings in close and let yourself tip forwards into a dive'

He matched her as she did this, and his heart raced when he felt gravity return.

'Now open out! Catch yourself, and glide'

As fast as he could, he snapped open his sails and his fall was converted into forward motion, and he gracefully glided out and over the edge of the cliff as she did. He felt the rush of warm air from below, and let the thermal lift him. In moments, the two were slowly and easily circling with the local pair of eagles.

Pitch's heart soared. The wind rushed in his face, and he could see for miles around. He was free of gravity, and he could move anyway he wanted to. For the sheer thrill of it, he dipped the edge of one wing and raised the other, and slowly made a corkscrew. As the world rushed around, he sped up and was plummeting towards the rainforest far below. He was helpless but to cry out in exhilaration.

He saw a dark shape hurtle past him, and the strength of the blast of air knocked him out his roll in time to see K'hai's dark wings open far beneath him. She laughed up to him;

'You think you can do aerobatics? Watch this!'

She cupped her wings, and the thermal pulled her up so fast it was as if she were on a string. She twisted as she went, and kept tilting her wings until there was nothing for the wind to catch. She slowed, stalling, wings wide, and then fell to the forest once more. She wrapped her wings around her, and soon became a tiny black dot against the green of the forest.

Just as she was about to hit the tops of the trees, and Pitch was about to shout out, she snapped open her wide swathes of feathers, and the sonic boom echoed all the way up to the cliffs to where Pitch was hovering anxiously.

She lazily rode the thermal up to his height again, and arched a brow as if to say; "you wanna try buddy?"

Pitch glanced down at the steep drop, and back to K'hai. Unsurprisingly he shook his head in decline.

K'hai laughed easily at his obvious reluctance, and chose instead to sweep her wings wide, and cup them, gaining height once more. Slowly, she and Pitch circled up until they were above the layer of thick and fluffy clouds. Pitch breathed in deeply, and a chill coursed through him.

'The air is much thinner and purer up here. Only in our Fae forms can we partake of it'

K'hai then spread her arms wide, and as the King watched, she drew herself up and up, backwards and backwards, until she almost stopped moving. But on a heartbeat, she completed the slow loop, and swooped gracefully back down to the King's side.

The loop was so slow, that time itself practically stopped for the King. For just this brief moment, he could almost see K'hai before she was Loss, before she became a great dragon slayer. For a few seconds, she stopped being the fierce, powerful warrior, and instead became something of the Light, of innocence. She looked almost like a young child, her eyes closed in bliss, and her hair fluttering and twirling in the wind. She was so elegant and graceful that his heart skipped a little in his chest, but Pitch dismissed it as nothing more than want.

And for the whole remainder of their flight, which consisted mainly of loops and corkscrews and other such aerobatics, Pitch was quiet and dreamy, and he could not shake the image of her from his head.

Of her as the angel.

When they touched back down hours later, and the sun was setting to a rich red in the wide sky, she skipped delicately across the grass, and seemed to have a silent conversation with her wolves.

But Pitch had decided that, if only for that day, she stopped being the embodiment of Loss.

And instead became the embodiment of Beauty.

Emotions licked his lips. Pitch's heart tasted good. He had only just begun to gnaw at it, yet the same illness that plagued K'hai was already starting to settle in his bones.

And the best thing was, he was completely unaware.

**AN: Nowhere near as epic as I wanted it to be, but I just could not capture the power, and grace of flight in words. More flights in the next chapter **

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	23. Chapter 23: A Call to Arms

A King's Queen: Chapter 23: A Call to Arms

K'hai was not as merciless in her training as he thought she would be. She gave him suggestions now and then, and corrected him when he went wrong, but for the most part he was free to explore the opportunities his Fae form presented with little restriction. But when he did go wrong, she drilled him into the correct manoeuvre relentlessly until she was satisfied.

Pitch was immensely tired by the time the sun set low in the sky, and as he circled upon the thermals lazily, he asked her;

'Well, what next? I think I have the grasp of this form now'

K'hai smirked and laughed lowly. She languidly turned over and put her arms behind her head. She continued to beat her great wings, and she seemed to have no trouble flying this way than normal flight.

'Try this. And then you will see why you are wrong'

As she told him to, Pitch turned over. He glided for a very short distance, and then began to fall very quickly. Try as he might, he could not catch the air beneath his sails, and he soon righted himself and rode the thermal back up to K'hai.

'Ok ok I get your point. But what level am I at? Surely I must be close to rivalling you now'

K'hai laughed brightly, and continued to flaunt her ability to fly upon her back

'This is what I mean. Just because you can fly, does not mean you are any good at it.'

At Pitch's expression of confusion, she continued;

'It is like comparing being able to walk to being able to dance. It takes a great deal of practice, as does anything, and even I still have a lot to learn'

Pitch was both comforted and worried by this.

'If that's the case, how am I ever going to be ready for three month's time?'

She shrugged easily, and turned off to the north. Pitch followed her course, and matched her speed easily.

'Believe me; I will have you dancing for three month's time! And this is not the only form for you to master. And I must teach you to shoot, swing and balance before that also. And I would also like to teach you how to make war cries. Each form has it's own, and they are all unique'

Pitch swallowed nervously. From the sounds of things, K'hai was either about to get a lot harsher, or he would have to be an incredibly quick learner. He changed the topic and asked;

'Well then, show me a war cry'

She grinned in a way that almost made him regret the decision, and she brought herself into a hover;

'I need something to aim at. Cast up a Nightmare, as strong as you can make her!'

At her request, Pitch also hovered lightly, and he formed up a great Nightmare from the crisp air. Her hooves gleamed, and her muscles were sinuous. Pitch bit his lip as he drew the grains of sand as tight as he could, and he forced out through gritted teeth;

'Ok. That's as strong as I can make her'

K'hai drew a great breath, and as she held it, she slipped into her emotions until she felt nothing but roiling anger. Her rage grew and grew until she felt it rise in her throat, and as she lunged forwards, a huge ear-splitting shout ripped from her mouth. Anger was set in every line of her face, and her body shuddered with the force of it. The air blasted forwards, and when it hit the Nightmare, her flailing hooves were frozen still, and she hung perfectly still in mid air.

K'hai shook herself, and flew around the Nightmare, pinching and poking her here and there. The horse's eyes rolled in anger, but she could not move.

'The Fae war cry has the ability to paralyze any it hits. A very dangerous war cry, I think' as she said this, she drew the dagger from her calf, and held the sleek blade to the creature's throbbing vein in her neck, 'because it would be all too easy to simply slit a throat'

As she said this, she flicked the blade across the vein, and oily Fear poured from the cut. The Nightmare shrunk and lost her form, and soon blew away upon the quick wind.

Pitch made a mental note to not irritate K'hai whilst she was in her Fae form. To the King, she seemed wild and unpredictable as the wind in this form. One moment she could be laughing that beautiful, smoky laugh of hers, and the next she would be scolding him darkly for making an idiotic mistake. He decided that this was another trait of the Fae, and that he too would appear as wild as her.

But now she was beating her wings faster and faster, and Pitch was struggling to keep up, but quickly they broke the sound barrier. In the now speeding air, K'hai shouted to him;

'Remember the arrow I sent?'

Pitch attempted to say yes, but his voice fell silent on the impossibly strong wind. He realized she was using the remnants of her war cry to speak above the deafening air, and he continued to listen as they sped ever northwards;

'I sent it to North. They are expecting us'

And with that, the two began making good time to the workshop.

~0O0~ a day or so ago~0O0~

The great black arrow thundered through the air faster than a bullet. It's tip sank downwards, and it fell even faster, spinning in a dark blur. With a resounding thunk, the bolt embedded itself in the wood of the doors to the workshop, and from far below, the Guardians all rushed up to see what had caused the echoing sound. They all hurried upstairs, and North opened the heavy doors to see the dark fletching of an arrow catching the drifting snow.

They all went outside, and everyone other than Jack began to shiver. North gripped the arrow tightly around where it had embedded itself, and bracing his foot against the wood, pulled as hard as he could.

The bolt popped out, and now North could see that the shaft had been etched with small, angular letters. He read the message under his breath;

'_To my fellow Guardians; have nothing to Fear, Pitch and I are perfectly fine. As you read this, he is gaining the ability of flight, and when he is strong enough, we will make way with all haste to the workshop. I ask you to receive us with open minds'_

As North processed the message, Tooth, who had been reading over his shoulder, cried out;

'I know, I know! It's a call to arms!'

And as she said this, two dark shapes began to merge out of the snow. With more grace than an earthbound spirit could hope to rival, K'hai and Pitch both touched down upon the runway in deep crouches. They rose, and all eyes widened at the sight of them, wings folded neatly behind leaner and more powerful frames.

'I have urgent need to speak with you' stated K'hai

And North was helpless but to let the tow Fae in.

**AN: yay, Pitch learns to fly! XD in the next chapter, K'hai recruits the Guardians (though not without some resistance)**

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	24. Chapter 24: Joining the Cause

A King's Queen: Chapter 24: Joining the Cause

K'hai slipped into the partially open doorway and gently shook her wings free of snow. She felt the subtle draw in her chest, and with a few focused thoughts, dropped her Fae form and Found her normal one. Possessions appeared, and gifted her a new cloak. K'hai fastened it about her neck, and she heard light but hurried footsteps as Pitch jogged to catch up with her. He too had Lost his Fae form and Found his normal one, but K'hai didn't need to know that it took a great deal of effort for him.

K'hai slowed, and noticed she was in the same great living room as she had when she had revealed herself to the Sandman. She sat down cross-legged upon the soft chair, and Pitch sat opposite her. He had about as much of an idea as the Guardians as to why they were here. About a minute later, said Guardians filed in and took their seats; Tooth perched elegantly upon the edge of her seat, and Jack lying across the back of the chair. Bunnymund sat at the other end with his arms crossed irritably, and North and Sandman took the seats on the other sofa facing the huge armchair in which K'hai had nestled herself. Sandman however quickly moved over to K'hai, and much to everyone else's surprise, sat himself in her lap. As if she had expected him to, the Guardian of Loss gently wrapped her arms about the little man, and his head lolled gently against her chest.

Pitch was extremely jealous of this, but he said nothing.

K'hai gently stroked Sandman's golden hair as she spoke;

'As I know you worried so after Pitch fell into his fever, I now have the chance to talk to all of you. Together. But I bring much news.'

K'hai proceeded to tell them about taking Pitch to the Centre, his fever, the Hunt and then the fall into the abyss and the meeting of the Guardian of Everything. It took many hours, but eventually everyone was up to date.

Tooth chewed nervously upon her dainty nails, and North and Bunnymund looked grave.

'There is more, isn't there?' the Guardian of Wonder asked quietly.

K'hai nodded sagely.

'I beg you to let me speak though, for this is not light hearing. Through my various comings and goings, I have Found that, in three months, there will be a war to end all wars.'

'Against who?' asked Jack doubtfully.

'The Nothing. It is the complete opposite of Existence, so it has no form and no light other than itself. It is titanic, unimaginably huge, and growing stronger every day. Through means I am unsure of, the Nothing has gained self awareness, and is now setting to consuming everything in the universe. Until only Nothing is left. Not even empty space'

'Oh dear God' Tooth murmured.

The others all started asking random questions, and Pitch looked bemused. K'hai held up her hands in silence, and revealed that the Sandman had been crying quietly.

'Please, let me speak! As I said, currently I can do nothing more. I have sent word to my armourer, and I am training myself and others for the upcoming battle. I still need to visit the forge, and the halls of Valhalla, as well as several other realms and peoples. We will need as many hands as we can get to fight. Which leads me on to why I am here'

The room had fallen silent now, and hands had strayed to weapons. Tooth's fingers fluttered over the short dagger at her hip, and Bunnymund was resting one of the shining wooden boomerangs in his lap. Jack's staff had begun to smoke icily, though it's owner had not spoken a word.

'I know that you all detest the creatures of the Darkness. It is in your nature. But I beseech you, set aside your fears, doubts and worries. I need every single one of you to fight with me, or we shall not win this war. You will all need to bear armour, and join the ranks of the growing armies. You will have to be prepared to fight, eat and sleep side by side with people who you would normally dismiss or fight against. You must become recruits, and train like everyone else. I will leave this to you. But for now, talk among yourselves. I must go now, I have much to do'

And with that, K'hai rose and strode silently out of the room, with Pitch at her heels. But as she reached the door, Jack spoke up once more;

'Wait! What do we have to do?'

K'hai turned, and smiled coolly.

'You must join the ranks. Fight with valour. And accept my call to arms. We fight for existence itself. If we lose, everything, everyone, will cease to exist. It is your choice. Spend your potentially final moments in reflection, or in battle. The frightened are already fleeing, and I ask you this; do you have it in you to join them?'

K'hai then left the hall, but called over her shoulder;

'If you chose to accept, voice it. I will Find you'

North drew a great sigh, and rose to his feet. Without a word, he left the room also.

And so did the others.

~0O0~

K'hai and Pitch made their way back to the Tibetan ruins in silence. They touched down upon the grass, kissed by bright evening sun, and K'hai vaulted neatly from her wolf's back, and began to stroke his soft but coarse fur gently.

'You have been very quiet'

Pitch sighed, and nodded.

'It's just…sinking in, I suppose. Three months, and we fight for everything. I shall have to lead an army once more. I worry that I cannot do it'

K'hai smiled softly, nothing but kindness and sympathy in her eyes.

'As do I. I know I may not look it, but I must lead my women's league once more. Attempt to coordinate several armies. Make sure that everyone has their blades sharpened, and armour polished. But I have little choice. Fight or die'

This last part was said very quietly, and Pitch could sense that underneath her skin, Fear was roiling and tumbling like an ocean of flames. He stroked his Nightmare's neck gently, and then left to go inside the ruins. But as he walked past K'hai, he said quietly;

'Your wolf. You said you did not know his name. Fenrisúlfur. It's Fenrisúlfur.'

Pitch then left without another word, and K'hai knew with guilt in her heart that she had weighed down several minds beyond imagination. So much so that most of them would never be the same again. But this did not press her.

She rested her forehead against Fenrisúlfur's, and looked deeply into his orange eyes, swimming and sparking with green and purple. She mumbled his name over and over;

Fenrisúlfur, Fenrisúlfur…where have I heard that name before?'

The great wolf quietly replied in her head.

_Fenrir and Fenris. They are my brothers. And we are the sons of Loki, the Norse god of Mischief, Fire and Lies._

'Dear Gods! I've been using you as my mount for eons, and you never told me you were of royal blood?!'

_Do not worry yourself over it. For me it is the highest honour to be your companion. I am not pure anyway; my blood is a mixture of Jotnar, Aesir and Vanir. My father, Loki, is a Frost Giant, and my mother was Fire Jotnar and Vanir. I am of royal blood, but not considered a noble. The three of us were left on an island as pups. Both Fenris and I managed to chew through the bonds that Odin had bound us with, but Fenrir remains bound in unbreakable chains. Perhaps you should free him for the Fight?_

'That is a good idea. But first I must gather the Norse, Greek and Hindi gods. And I _still _need to visit Vulcan. Something tells me he is not too happy about forging armour for several billion soldiers…'

Fenrisúlfur lay down gently upon the grass, and K'hai lay dazedly upon his warm side. The night sky now glittered and shone, and it was with incredible fear and dread that K'hai felt the Nothing growing. Consuming. Taking in everything it touched.

But she laid down her head, and instead thought of how she must teach the King how to balance and fight properly within the next week, and the idea of this amused her.

So her heart was both heavy and light as she fell asleep on Fenrisúlfur's side.

The great wolf too looked to the stars. And then he too rested his noble head.

And the two warriors slept. Already readying themselves for the battle that was so near.

But yet still so far.

**AN: Long time no update, I know. But I may have been a little more motivated if perhaps I had some more reviews :( **

**Reviews wanted,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	25. Chapter 25: Sparring

A King's Queen: Chapter 25: Sparring

The morning sun touched at K'hai's face with gentle fingers. Fen, as she had taken to calling him, twitched and shivered and then gave a great, jaw cracking yawn. K'hai arched her back luxuriously, and yawned equally wide, showing off her glistening fangs. She then rose to her feet elegantly, and stretched once more. Then with brisk, business-like fingers, she undid her frayed and lumpy braid and re-did it so it was slick and neat.

K'hai wandered out onto the edge of the great cliff the meadow sheared off into, and summoned Possessions. She murmured quietly to him;

'_E'ahlarar yk yl gr'aheeso' Bring me my grindstone _she asked

'_Has alaraa' at once _he replied

Possessions then walked into the air and disappeared. Almost immediately, he returned with a great slab of oily grey rock between his teeth. K'hai took it from him, and settled herself on the soft grass. She rested the rock between her knees so that the edge faced upwards, and then she drew her great war blade. She placed the keen edge against the stone, and with one hand wrapped around the hilt, and the other pressing on the flat end of the sword, she began to push the blade along the stone. Showers of sparks rose from the front in great waves, and with each push, the blade shimmered with trails of purple embers as it's enchantment strengthened.

K'hai knew it would be nothing like having her blade sharpened properly at Vulcan's forge, but she strengthened the enchantment and that was what mattered. She removed the blade from the stone and gently scraped her thumb along the microscopic edge. With just the lightest of touches she drew her own blood, and she absentmindedly sucked on the cut as she sheathed her sword.

K'hai turned, expecting to see the King now that it was sunrise. But when no tall rider stood awaiting her instructions, she scowled and with a flick of a finger sent Possessions off into the ruins.

K'hai didn't know how he had woken Pitch, but five minutes later a tired and somewhat irritable King stood before her, squinting in the new morning sun. K'hai picked up one of the long wooden staffs that Possessions had brought along with her grindstone, and she twirled it elegantly between her fingers, over her knuckles, and behind her shoulders until it rested in the other hand. As she did this, not taking her eyes from the spinning wood, she asked of Pitch;

'How much experience have you had with swords, or any hand to hand combat for that matter?'

'uh…a little, when I was in the Golden Army, but we rode out to war so rarely it has been many, many years since I last swung a blade'

'Well, we shall start with staffs then. Get your reflexes and flexibility back before moving on to the weight of a proper sword'

She swung the end of the staff out and hit Pitch neatly in his belly, not hurting him, but waking him up.

'Why don't we see just how well you can do?'

She took a few paces back and began circling. Pitch watched her sleepily, and it was only when she lunged, and by some miracle he managed to lean to one side and evade the wood, that he realized she was testing him. With a quick kick, he pushed his toe beneath the edge of the staff on the grass, and flicked it into his palm. He kept his palms light on the wood, and far apart, and lifted each end in time to block the blows that K'hai meted out.

K'hai then began to dance with him, and Pitch began to trip over his and her own feet.

'Watch it…' she said lowly.

Seeing she had his attention divided, she dropped low and kicking one leg out for balance, swung her staff across the top of the grass and neatly took the King's feet out from under him. He was irritable now, and with an almighty push, he fired both his feet out towards K'hai and managed to floor her. He jumped lithely to his feet and pointed the end of his staff at K'hai's throat.

'Submit' he said between pants.

K'hai smirked.

'You haven't got me yet! You sacrificed your footing for a killing stroke!' and thus, she swung the end of her staff into her other hand and pulled forwards, knocking Pitch's ankles forward. For a moment, K'hai considered letting him fall on her just to see the blush in his cheeks, but she thought better of it and flexibly rolled to the side so that the King got a face-full of dirt.

She wiped the earth from her staff as Pitch pushed himself up from the grass and rolled over onto his back.

'You're good. You haven't boxed yourself into a set of tame movements like most beginners, but you need to try and see things before they happen. Your opponent will be just as crafty as you, if not more so, so you must be cunning, quick, and for God's sake, remember where to put your feet!'

Pitch groaned tiredly. But K'hai was merciless, and cruelly but calmly said;

'Again'

And so, for the rest of the day, and the next, K'hai taught Pitch how to fight with a staff. By the third day, he could feel his muscles again like when he had been a soldier, and his spars with K'hai could be getting as long as half an hour. He did not tire so easily, and his already fast reflexes were now exceptionally sharp. In the low evening sun, he blocked and attacked and flourished and feinted, matching and opposing K'hai in perfect harmony. More often than not he still ended up on the grass, but he knew exactly where to step, and K'hai was pleased that he could dance so quickly.

She rocked low, her staff held in both hands like a sword, and mocked him as only a good friend can;

'Come, come now, Pitch, I know little milk-maids who can turn better than that!'

Pitch grinned, and let a volley of three sharp blows land on K'hai's shin, ribs and shoulder, each blow bringing her further and further to the floor. He lifted his staff high for a killing stroke, and just as he was about to land the blade, she reluctantly held up her hands in defeat;

'I submit! I am getting out of practice, and this form is not as accustomed as I would like to sparring'

She said this between pants, and it satisfied Pitch immensely that he had got K'hai to admit defeat. She flopped down bonelessly onto the grass and stared up at the open sky. Pitch, not wanting to get sore muscles, paced and walked around, twirling his staff between his fingers as he had seen K'hai do. For about a minute she appeared to be completely exhausted, but as quickly as if she had flipped a switch, she rippled her body and landed neatly on her feet, chest no longer heaving for air.

She summoned Possessions, and unclipped her sword from the loose belt at her hip. She gave him the blade and murmured quietly that he take it to Vulcan to be sharpened, and to return with two practice blades.

Pitch by now had nothing better to do, so he had resorted to admiring the Lone Rider out of the corners of his eyes. As he watched furtively, Possessions nodded and left for Vulcan's forge, and K'hai stretched her arms out behind her back, and then flexibly pulled her foot up to the crown of her head, stretching the muscles. Pitch, not for the first time, was beginning to have dark thoughts about just how flexible K'hai may be, but then she said to him, not even looking over her shoulder;

'I am a lot more flexible thank you think, King, but I don't think I want to show you just yet' her voice had a mocking, laughing quality to it, and Pitch blushed furiously in embarrassment. Thankfully, that was when Possessions returned, and he bore four long swords encased in sheaths of woven reeds. K'hai took one and drew the blade with a sharp hiss. It shone silver in the sun, and K'hai held it up to her eye as a carpenter might to a piece of wood to check if it was straight. She tested the edge with her thumb, and licked a few times at the resulting cut.

'Dull as a bar of soap' she said absentmindedly.

'You just cut yourself with it though'

She smiled around her thumb, and said quietly;

'Yes, but this is something called a mortal blade. Very quick and easy to make, and no enchantments. My own sword is enchanted to stay sharp, and hone it's edge with every hit I land on an enemy. I can strengthen the enchantment by using my grindstone, but it is nothing like having it sharpened properly at Vulcan's forge'

K'hai then tossed the other sword in it's sheath to Pitch, who caught it neatly.

K'hai drew her shining blade, and rocked in readiness on the balls of her feet.

'It will not matter' she mocked.

In response, Pitch drew his own blade and the battle began again.

~0O0~

For three more days, K'hai trained Pitch in the art of swordsmanship, and she was satisfied with how far he had come in that time, both with one blade and duel wielding. Pitch found the sword much the same as the staff, only a tad heavier, but infinitely faster and more damaging. He felt energy singing in his veins he hadn't in years, and K'hai seemed completely unaffected by the rough activity.

For the third time that day, Pitch twisted his blade around K'hai's and flicked it neatly out of her hands.

'I…win' he said between pants.

'Yeah yeah, don't get too used to it' she said proudly. Pitch showed great promise, but he still had miles to go yet.

She picked up her second blade and drew it, now two shining edges gleaming in the sun. But Pitch was giving her something of a curious look, as a child might to a parent when asking awkward questions.

'Say, K'hai…'

'Yes?'

Pitch was going to ask about that time seemingly so far back when she had kissed him at the forest lair, but he changed his question in an instant;

'What do you know about this?' he lifted the heavy sapphire pendant from beneath his shirt and held it, the large gem shattering the sunlight into thousands of blue shards.

K'hai walked over and cupped the pendant lightly between her hands. She looked very deep in thought, and smiled a small, knowing smile.

'I know plenty of it. But I cannot tell you yet. I am not allowed'

_Fine_ Pitch thought to himself.

'And there was one other thing. A violin-'

'I know of that also, but I can tell you from where it is hence. It is called the Song of Valhalla, and any who play it, play a tune exactly as they feel it in their hearts. The dead souls who reside in the halls of Valhalla can hear it's quavering notes, and when the right person plays the right melody, they know they are to be summoned for battle'

K'hai then knelt to the ground and whispered in Possession's perked ear. The wolf nodded and jogged into the ruins. But a moment later, he returned with the violin and it's bow and gave them to K'hai. As she settled the butt of the violin beneath her chin, she murmured quietly;

'I am unsure as to what my tune shall sound as. I… am suspended in a conflict, so to speak'

She then drew the bow across the strings, and a tinkle of melodic notes swam across the air, tinkling like bells. Then her pace picked up, and the notes deepened. For an hour, she interspersed beautiful, sweet trills with dark, thrumming notes, and unawares to K'hai, Pitch could see two ethereal wolves dancing and skipping in the air. One was made of pure, white sunlight, and the other dark, twisted shadows. As Pitch watched them in wonderment, K'hai played one last wavering note and then put the violin down.

'I could sense them, Pitch. It is not unknown for a particularly moving song to give material to one's soul. It still gives me comfort that in these dark times, there is a shard of the Light inside us all' she gently rested her hand above Pitch's thundering heart, and seemed to look past his eyes. She whispered disjointedly;

'Yes…there is still some hope yet'

The curious moment held, and Pitch was painfully aware of her hand upon his heart, every spark of light in her eyes, every shimmer of her hair as it whisked and tumbled in the brisk wind.

But then she took a deep, shuddering breath, and returned from wherever she had been, and sheathed the two bright swords, forgotten upon the grass. As she did this, her back to the King, she said;

'You are ready'

'For what?'

'To get your own blade. From Vulcan'

An inexplicable thread of delight wormed around inside the King, and he was helpless but to grin like a child at Christmas.

**AN: I know, ages since an update. Feel free to skin me. But this chapter was hard to get out, purely because I couldn't envision it, but next chapter we get to meet Vulcan, Guardian of Valour and Bravery. **

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room **


	26. Chapter 26: Without a Shield

A King's Queen: Chapter 26: Without a Shield

Pitch was tremendously excited. Having mastery of a blade once more felt incredible, and something like a milestone along his journey of becoming The Nightmare General as opposed to the Nightmare King.

He had suggested they return to the forest lair, and Pitch was not unhappy to notice that K'hai moved the old bed frame from over the hole. Now it looked more like a home than a lair. And that was what it had been for Pitch all along really.

K'hai and Fenrisúlfur remained in the great globe hall, deep beneath the surface, and she seemed to taking inventory. A great array of blades was laid out neatly before her, some of them smaller than a fingernail, all the way through short daggers, curved swords, and up to massive, jagged blades. At her quiet orders, Possessions would move the blades around into an order that must have held some importance, or he added or took from the collection. K'hai looked almost relaxed, it seemed.

She had shed her cloak and tight covering of raw Obsidian, and instead sat cross-legged on the floor with loose hair, and a loose black jumpsuit, sheerer than a spider's web. Much to Pitch's annoyance, this garment was so thin he could see every curve of her body in silhouette, but so little at the same time. It was most teasing.

When she apparently didn't need his help, and they weren't leaving anytime soon, Pitch decided to make sure he looked his best for arriving at the forge. He followed the various passages and stairways up to the surface, not rushing, and came upon the waterfall cavern. He stripped off his loose shirt and cargo pants (which he had forgotten to change out of for the sparring, meaning K'hai had caught him wearing human clothes, much to his irritation) and dropped them on the slick stone floor. He shivered a little in the misty air, and then ducked beneath the icy water of the waterfall.

The chill of it took his breath away, but also thankfully any of the thoughts of K'hai he had been having. He washed his hair of the three days of dirt and sweat, for she had not allowed him time to wash, and polished his claws against the stone. Pitch was not alone however.

K'hai had not forgotten the way he had watched her from behind the waterfall. She knew the kiss had been nothing but a tease, but she was not above turning the tables on the Nightmare King. So she had followed him silently up the passages, floating silently in an ethereal, shadow-clad form. She had remained at the doorway of the cavern, and a smirk a mile wide was plastered across her face the entire time she observed. Pitch was oblivious.

It was no secret to her that she found the King attractive though. She had watched him in the heat of battle, seen the tightening of his muscles when he was angry. And was also not clueless to the fact he had used her name as a spur through his sleepless and empty nights. Twice.

So she watched him shamelessly, leaning easily in the shadows against the rough stone wall. It amused her to see how he secretly loathed the dirt and sweat that had gathered on his skin, and how he scrubbed mercilessly until his ashen tone covered him once more. She heard a few quiet clicks behind her, and looked to see Fen sitting by her side. She looked at him questioningly. He replied;

'_I would not miss this for the world_' there was the canine equivalent of a grin plastered across his face.

K'hai smirked, and gently nudged the wolf with her foot. He didn't move, and she gave up trying to shoo him away. She flicked her gaze upwards again, and her heart leapt with quickened blood.

For walking towards her, still unawares, was Pitch. He had tugged on the grey cotton trousers he had sparred in, but left his shirt, and was rubbing at his hair with a small towel. For some reason, K'hai found the image intensely more attractive than the few times she had seen him more than shirtless.

The beads of water rolled of his skin, and she noted absentmindedly how well his muscles were returning to the disciplined form of a soldier. She stepped forwards ever so slightly, so that she was not completely ensconced in shadow, and the bright light filtering from above highlighted across her long legs, smirking lip, and dancing eyes.

And it was at that moment that Pitch looked up. When he saw K'hai standing in the doorway, he startled terribly, and K'hai's smirk grew into a fully-fledged grin, sharp fangs glinting.

Pitch continued to make for the door, his face fighting between a frown of disapproval, and a one-sided smile. As he drew nearer, K'hai didn't move, but didn't say anything either.

Pitch chose to break the silence.

'So, how long have you watched?'

'Long enough'

Instead of feeling violated like he should have, Pitch felt more amused than anything else. It was nice to know that K'hai wasn't the only one causing endless sexual frustration.

Deciding to test the boundaries a little, Pitch stopped in the doorway next to her, and continued to rub at his hair with the towel. He quirked a brow and asked

'Did you like what you saw?'

K'hai turned her face to him and asked equally teasingly

'Did you?'

'What do you think?'

'I think your moaning of my name later that night explained plenty'

Pitch was silent.

'And surely my watching is enough to tell you that I _do_ like what I see. Even if perhaps I don't want it'

He turned to face her now, and K'hai held her ground. Despite her height, she still had to look up to him as he drew nearer, him silently reminding her that he nearly topped seven feet tall. He dropped the towel, and leaned with one hand on the wall. Effectively trapping her on one side from retreating down the passage. His whole posture asked

_How about now? Do you still not want what you see?_

K'hai's unmoving and equally amused stance returned with

_You're going to have to try harder than that, King_

Pitch rose to the challenge, and leaned in a little closer. Her eyes remained steely and amused, but didn't flash with warning. Pitch's voice was low and dark now, and he ghosted his breath along her jaw as he spoke.

'I think you're lying K'hai'

_That's not fair_ she thought dimly. He was too close, so close, and she could see every spark of determination in his eyes. She was not going to succumb so easily though. Desperately struggling for some loophole in the situation, she played her last card. In a voice just as husky as his, K'hai whispered back;

'Do not think I will be easy, King. A Battle-Maiden does not give herself with such little of a fight'

This stopped Pitch dead in his tracks. She couldn't possibly be-

In his brief moment of stunned silence, K'hai had slipped away from him and into the daylight of the cavern. She sat herself down upon the stone, and motioned for Pitch to join her. Helpless but to listen, he did as was told and sat upon the rock.

'You know that I was once a leader among leagues of female warriors. We were not human. The women of our race are known as Battle-Maidens, and with only women camped in barracks for potentially months on end, we seek each other out to relieve certain…tensions'

Pitch was fighting desperately hard so that she did not see he was feeling the same tension of which she spoke.

'It is something of a tradition that every Battle-Maiden gets a wolf tooth from each of her lovers. We all wear an anklet like my own, and they denote how far we have come into womanhood. If she is a virgin, the leather will be unbroken. If she has lain with a man, she slits the leather to tell she is a true woman. And every female lover's wolf tooth gets pushed into the leather, regardless of if she is a virgin or not.'

K'hai unfastened her own anklet, and passed the narrow band of leather to Pitch. He turned the supple stuff, still warm, over in his hands. It was packed with wolf teeth, showing that even as a commanding officer, K'hai was still seen as a source of relief from her dragon-slayer days. But between the wolf teeth, the leather was whole, and unslit. Despite having been with many women, K'hai had never felt a man's touch.

He glanced up at her with wide eyes, but she was not small and shy as he had expected her to be. Her violet eyes dared him to call her weak, dared him to try his luck.

He simply did not know what to think with this new found knowledge of the enigma before him. Not even Pitch expected the words that escaped his lips;

'If you ever think me worthy, I would be honoured to be your first. Until then, let me show you what else a man can do'

K'hai's eyes flashed; with Fear or warning he did not know.

He leaned forward, and gently touched his lips to hers. He struggled valiantly to keep the kiss chaste, and gentle, even as the animal inside him rattled his chains. K'hai froze, startled like a rabbit in bright light.

Pitch gently rested his hands on her shoulders, and she trembled once. Just once.

She was helpless before the tide of emotions that threatened to drown her. Somehow through the fog though, she felt that she didn't need air anymore. She needed him. Haltingly, she brought her arms around his neck, and kissed back, completely unsure.

Pitch felt her twine her arms about his neck, and for once the warrior before him was without a shield, without a sword. Her lips moved gently against his, and he asked her silently

_Let me show you K'hai_

Without forcing her, he parted his lips, and waited for her to do the same. Almost desperately, she parted her own. His tongue snaked out to battle with her own, and she was overwhelmed once more. He tasted of dark things, dark indulgent things, like rich wine and fine silk. She could feel his hot breaths, and was turned to liquid in his arms.

And Pitch almost ripped her clothing away right there and then when she let him in. she tasted of spice, and battle, and something he faintly recognised as dragon-smoke. Her breaths were shaky and uneven, and skimmed across his lips as she was helpless but to gasp for air. With what words she could, she stammered

'No…not here. Not yet'

She melted herself desperately against him once more, and then dropped her form and Found her ethereal one. She vanished from his arms as quickly as a shadow, and drifted up and into the air.

Her eyes were both bright and dim at the same time, and her voice was hoarse;

'No more! Otherwise I will be helpless but to fall beneath you!'

And she was gone.

Pitch did not feel as he should. Instead of feeling on top of the world, he felt he had done something awful. He felt lower than the dirt on his shoes, as if he were nothing but a worm in the great scheme of things. His soul twisted and writhed in his chest. Perhaps she was one of those things that no one was meant to have, to touch. It felt as if he had taken her against her will. As if he had raped her.

Pitch shrank in on himself. And sat, motionless, upon the stone. He had destroyed her. She was no brave warrior. He had reduced her to a frightened young girl, and it frightened her. So she had fled.

And left the King wondering why he had been stupid enough to try

**AN: again, sorry for the slow update people. Also, sorry we didn't see Vulcan here, but this happened and I had to write it. Awww, poor Pitch **

**Reviews Welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	27. Chapter 27: Getting it Together

A King's Queen: Chapter 27: Getting it together

K'hai was in turmoil. Her body and heart ached for him, for the burn of his touch, for another of those mind-blowing kisses. But her mind was frightened by what he did to her, frightened by the fact he could control her with those feelings. And then her emotions were riding somewhere between a dazed high and terrified and confused low. She had let the breeze carry her whilst she was in her Ethereal form, and eventually she had touched down in the bright forest before the gaping maw of the lair. It looked so much different without the bed frame.

Ploughing through her tormented feelings, she dropped into the hole and slunk around until she found the globe hall. There, with quick hands, she bundled up the blades into several packages and gathered them in her arms. All the while she looked over her shoulder. Not out of fright, but rather something similar to a startled rabbit keeping an eye out for a hunter they will always be able to outrun. She could hear Nightmares and Fearlings chattering and whispering in the shadows, but they did not attack for her. Rather they seemed to be blocking off some of the entrances. She noticed this, but not the quiet and hurried steps faltering down the staircases.

So when she rose from her crouched form on the cool floor, and lifted her eyes, her gaze locked straight with a pair of eyes she did not want to see just yet.

The King stood in the one remaining doorway, a little hunched and drawn inwards, as if he were trying to shrink. K'hai did not feel any hatred towards him, nor did she remember the feelings of the kiss other than that it had happened. Rather she looked at him with wide, unmoving eyes, sizing him up as an archer does to a target blurred by fog. She froze in lifting the bundles, and the air was thick with tension. There was much energy pent up within her tense frame, and she could go to tears, turn rabid, or flee with the wind. It would all be governed by the King's next move.

He stepped out of the shadows cautiously, and K'hai's warrior mentality finally kicked into gear. In one swift move, she had settled the bundles into the crook of one arm, drawn the sharp little dagger from her hip, and turned slightly to better face Pitch. Her eyes became daring and fierce, and her face immediately set into lines of deep anger, though she was actually willing the King not to come any closer. She was afraid of what her reflexes were like in this dangerous and unstable state his touch had put her in. she whispered two words, low and growling, carrying over the empty space;

'_Lee'r a'rakt'_

Fen, who had followed dutifully, now sitting patiently behind her, translated in Pitch's mind;

'_No closer'_

Pitch stared at her owlishly for another minute or so, and she twirled the blade anxiously across her knuckles. Her façade slipped for a moment, and he could see the fright on her face, the fright warning him off. He nodded ever so slightly, and stood aside. He had seen that Fear on a few other faces through his time as an immortal. It was not Fear of a particular person, but rather a Fear of yourself, and what you might do.

K'hai did not sheath her blade, but she came out her light battle crouch and slipped past the King and up the stairs with little more than a whisper of moving air to mark the passing of her silent feet. He looked after her wistfully, but did not stop her passing.

K'hai fled for a second time. As soon as she popped out into the waterfall cavern, she summoned Possessions, and he brought her sword, cloak, and bow and arrows. She armoured herself in a heartbeat, and with a piercing whistle that reached the downbeat King underground, she brought Fen to her side and mounted up.

'_Take me anywhere'_

'_At once, ma'am'_

And Fenrisúlfur bounded up into the bright sky, K'hai clutching desperately to her bundles of blades.

~0O0~

Fen set a steady but quick pace, the kind that wolves can keep up indefinitely to eat away the miles. He took her up and up into the sky, and when they crossed the boundary between air and space, K'hai was taken into the Centre and they travelled much faster there. She now had some idea of what had happened, and was now taking stock of her situation.

There were countless armies rallying.

Countless more that still needed the call to arms.

The Guardians on Earth needed help with their training.

She had to go to the Agardians. And the Vanir. And as many other of the Nine Realms as she could muster.

And she also had to contact the Lanterns. Somehow. And the Atlantians.

And on top of all that, she had Vulcan to check up on, and somehow bring herself to finish Pitch's training. There were still several forms for him to master.

Now realizing just how much she had to do, she kicked herself for being so self centred. It had been a kiss. Nothing more.

So she sucked it up, and sat up straighter on Fen's back. He felt her shift in weight, and slowed to a stop, floating among the stars. She looked around her, keen eyes piercing the immense distances. A little to her left lay Vulcan's forge, behind her Earth and therefore Pitch, the Guardians, and the Atlantians. She shivered a little at the recent events and decided not to head back for a while yet.

Directly to her right lay a point from which she could contact Asgard; Loki would no doubt want to hear about Fenrisúlfur. Heimdall may also have some idea of where she could contact the Lanterns from, but that would have to wait.

And then there was the familiar tug of her home planet, Rii'k. She could almost hear the armouries and their thundering hammers, the arguing and sparring among the women barracked there. She would also have to pay a visit to those camps too.

But her most pressing need was to contact Vulcan; he had much armour and weaponry to make, and he was the closest thing she had to a father. So K'hai found herself wheeling Fen to the right direction and gently spurring him towards the forge. He broke into that distance-consuming jog once more, and soon K'hai's heart was warming at the thought of seeing Vulcan again, and being able to surround herself with a warrior's finery once more.

~0O0~

K'hai was soon upon the forge of Vulcan. Set in the middle of an impressive and dangerous asteroid field, the building was set into an enormous asteroid, making it incredibly well hidden. The great lump of rock spun slowly, drifting on a wild course through the stars.

She slowed Fen to a light jog, and they touched down upon the flat rock in front of the great metal doors. They were huge and wide, and had no apparent handles or other ways of opening and closing. The great slabs of dark brown metal blended in almost seamlessly with the rock they were set into, and K'hai could not hear the thundering of hammers or blaze of forges through the enchanted steel.

She vaulted from Fen's back, and had Possessions bear her bundles of blades. They floated in the air around him, and followed wherever he went.

K'hai reached up for the door and knocked three times. She straightened her cloak, and lifted her chin. If she was lucky, some new apprentice may open the doors, in which case she could appear imperious and tall.

_They call you Shadow Queen here_

_Do they now? Perhaps it is time I addressed my subjects then_

The doors slowly began to revolve inwards, grinding against the stone. A great rush of warm air blasted out of the heart of the asteroid, and it fluttered and tumbled her cloak. A wave of dust swept out onto the landing space, and K'hai could hear very well now the shouts of men working above the blazing forges, and the steady thump and clang of hammer upon anvil.

A young apprentice boy held the door open, and his blue eyes were wide as saucers. His arms were skinny, and he was very small, and his skin was smudged with soot. He could only have been 12 or so, one of Vulcan's newest assistants no doubt.

K'hai turned her head towards him and watched keenly from the shadow of her hood.

'I am here to see Vulcan. I believe he is expecting me'

All of a sudden, the cogs fit into place in the young boy's head, and he realized just who she was.

'Oh t-terribly sorry ma'am, but Boss didn't tell any of us-'

She smiled indulgently, and knelt down to the young boy, his eyes enchanted by the shadow-woman before him.

'Fear not, young one. You have done well, and being billeted at Vulcan's forge is not something to take lightly. Perhaps if you prove yourself worthy, he will show you how he forges his Sky-Iron'

She ordered Possessions over with a quiet snap of her fingers, and he neatly deposited a blade on her outstretched palm. It was slightly curved, and came to a sharp point. She slid the blade from its black dragon-hide sheath, and the flawless onyx shone in the light pouring from the doorway. Its leading edge was sharply serrated, and dragon-teeth were set into the oiled ebony of the handle.

'This is a Dragon-slayer's blade. Its edge is eternally poisoned, and it keeps its sharp edge. It can turn any blade, and wrench any bone. The only things it cannot tear through is Sky-Iron, Star -Steel or the hand of its wielder'

His eyes were now shining with tears of joy, and he reverently turned the blade over and over. For K'hai, it was but a dagger, but on the young boy's hip, it looked like a short and menacing sword.

'T-thank you Miss. I shall keep it oiled and sharp as long as I breathe the air of Vulcan's forges'

She lightly ruffled his hair, and let herself into the forge. The stone was smooth and warm under her bare feet, and she was glad to see the first blade she had ever wielded in a new and deserving hand. The wide corridor, with its rough stone walls, split off into three directions, and she took the one up ahead. Torches shone at regular intervals on the walls, and she could hear the young apprentice struggling to close the doors.

Eventually, the great metal slabs ground shut, and K'hai was at last in the forge. She walked briskly and with purpose, though the men and apprentices working at the small forges and smelters along the walls of the great long hall the corridor opened out into. They gave her curious stares, and some regarded her with suspicion. She kept her chin high, and did not give any of them the courtesy of her glance.

The forges seemed infinite from the inside. The great hall had many smaller ones sprouting off from it, each housing a larger forge or smelter to supply the smaller ones around it. Bright, glowing metal gushed down drains set into the stone floor, and flowed into casts for hammers, swords, and any kind of armour imaginable. Somehow, K'hai managed to find her way into the heart if this sweltering labyrinth, though this was more by Vulcan's doing than her own. Even from afar, she could hear him bellowing at the tops of his lungs for more of a particular metal, or tongue-lashing a lazy apprentice to work harder. She also heard him curse several times because of her 'dropping orders with no bloody warning' and then 'not even being here'.

She smirked at his deep-seated stress, and pushed open the stained metal doors at the end of the huge hall. They were so far away from the other end that she had not been able to see them, and the two entrances were several miles apart.

Another blast of hot air welcomed her, and the thundering of hammers upon anvils got even louder, if it was possible. She could hear men shouting, and see metal rushing and burning from one point to another. There was no pause in the activity here; weaponry and armour was being churned out faster than any mortal factory could hope to match, and it was organized chaos.

She saw through the bright glows of hot metal a great man hulked over a pool of white hot coals. As she watched, he heaved out a bar of metal from the heart of the fire and began to beat it with a hammer so hard that it resounded louder above everything else. He worked the metal with ease and experience, bending and shaping it with no hesitation and setting it back in the fire to temper. His arms were huge and burly, and he was even taller than Pitch, which was saying something. His wiry hair and beard were flecked with grey, but his face could have belonged to either a young warrior or old scholar. He wore a stained Greek tunic, and sweat beaded on his furrowed brow. Against one of his calves, a gleaming metal brace was strapped, and this leg was adorned by a huge, starburst shaped scar.

He then leant against the edge of his forge, and mopped his brow with the edge of his tunic, relaxing for but a moment. With purpose and confidence in her every step, K'hai entered the Heart-Forge and called out over the din of the metal workings;

'Vulcan, my friend, how have you been?'

He looked up suddenly, piercing blue eyes from darkly tanned and soot smudged skin.

'K'hai?'

He spoke with a deep voice, and an accent that was somewhere between Italian and Grecian.

'It is I, old fool'

He pushed up from where he had been leaning and stuck out his hand to shake. Her small, fine bones were consumed by his great paw, and he pumped her shoulder hard.

'Ha! Who is the fool here? I hear tell that you have got yourself into some trouble with a young man'

K'hai rolled her eyes, and gave Possessions a death glare. He looked completely unrepentant.

'Word travels fast along the grapevine apparently'

'Aye that it does. But tell me K'hai; is this man a bane upon you?'

He scowled from under his dark brows, seeming both like a worried father and angry older brother. He was the closest K'hai had to both. He leant upon the upright shaft of the great hammer he had been working with, resting it's heavy head upon the hot stone floor. His gaze was intense, and K'hai squirmed beneath it the way an erring child does beneath their father's glare.

'No no. he is not a bane. But I do feel that I reacted the wrong way to what he did'

'Tell me, Lupita'

She frowned at his pet name of 'Little Wolf' but was not unused to it. She drew her blade slowly, and examined it's keen edge against the light from the Heart-Forge. Then she rested it's tip upon the stone, and twirled it to and fro.

'Well…I have known he has had certain…feelings towards for some time now, and I for him to some extent. And a few hours ago, I was stupid enough to tease him, and I did not expect what he gave me'

'If he so much as laid a hand on you without your say so-'

'No, Vulcan. Nothing of that sort. But he was my first kiss, and it made me feel giddy and disorientated-'

Vulcan grinned indulgently, and hauled the metal from the coals to dunk it in icy water. The water steamed and hissed violently, and they both watched it curl towards the ceiling and up a chimney, which led to the volcano the forge was built around.

'Ah. That is how it is meant to feel, Lupita. It is right and good when a man makes you feel that'

'But I didn't just feel that. I felt fear, and worry, and most of all, I was frightened by him. He could control me with those feelings, and that made me weak. I am never weak'

He drew a deep, patient breath, and pulled the dripping blade from the water, holding it up to see the light hit it's surface.

'Lupita…you cannot expect to know exactly how everything works and what you will feel. Perhaps you should let him teach you, in return for all the training you are giving him'

'I am not training him because I want to. I am training him because I need to. But perhaps you are right…maybe I should learn some things before my illness, or the Nothing, take me in three month's time'

And with that, K'hai ended that particular conversation and started on something different, at which point the young apprentice boy scuttled into the Heart-Forge and hid beneath the shadow of K'hai's cloak.

'Oho! What do we have here?'

'Oh, do not mind him. Young Koldo here has only been billeted for a week. And he also should not be in the Heart-Forge for no apparent reason!'

Koldo shifted his feet uneasily, and wordlessly held up the Dragon-Slayer's blade for Vulcan to inspect. He twisted and wrung his narrow hands, waiting for his verdict. Vulcan flicked the blade against the light, and was about to test it on his thumb when he recognized the mischievous look in K'hai's eyes and remembered the blade was poisoned.

'Why have you given this boy a Dragon-Slayer's blade, Lupita?'

'I thought he might find it useful. And be careful with it Vulcan, it would be a shame if you hurt yourself on it'

He smirked, and clicked the blade back into it's sheath, handing it back to Koldo. Now with a gentler tone, he ushered the boy from the Heart-Forge, undoubtedly making sure he was off to brag to the others of the blade he was gifted by the Shadow Queen.

'He is a good child, Vulcan. Be kind to him'

'Oh, I could never hate them. Be irritated and annoyed perhaps, but never hate'

Then K'hai took from the folds of her cloak some parchment wrapped bundles, and she handed them to Vulcan. Somewhat suspiciously, he took off the wrappings, and the bright brass buttons and crisp gold brocade fell over his hands.

'It has been a long time since I last saw one of these K'hai. What are you planning?'

'That is not the one I want you to look over. The sirens of Atlantis will be of more help than you for that uniform I am afraid'

Vulcan opened the other package, and was silenced by the armour he held. The crisp charcoal grey plates were dull, and chipped. The cloak was threadbare, as were the billowing cream undershirt and trousers. The small spikes on the shoulder pads and heels of the boots were dulled and scuffed, and the gloves had holes in the knuckles.

'I need you to re fit the armour for him. In due time I will bring him to the forge and have the final fitting done. Until then, I believe you should also take care of these'

She drew another great bundle from her cloak, and Possessions neatly deposited his parcels of blades at Vulcan's feet. K'hai held her package in two hands, and Vulcan recognized the curved, great blade and long shaft as those of a war-scythe. He unwrapped this with eager hands, and tears were brought to his eyes at the sorry state of the thing. The leading edge of the blade, once a shimmering black, was now blunted and dull, and the gold metal of the other side and smaller spur were scratched and rusted. The once smooth wood of the handle was rotten and worm riddled, and the straight blade was curved and warped.

Vulcan turned, and began to warm his forge once more.

'I shall see what can be done'

'Thank you. For everything.'

K'hai folded up the dress uniform and tucked it back into her cloak, and left the armour, scythe and blades for sharpening and improvement. Then she quietly turned on her heel, and left the Heart-Forge.

Fen was waiting patiently by the great doors, and she mounted up without a word.

_I think it is time I started behaving like the woman I am. We should return to Earth._

_Indeed._

And Fen kicked up into space, and K'hai began hurtling back to a friendship she hoped she hadn't destroyed.

AN: Yay, massive chapter time. Also, sorry for the long time no update, but I was struggling to keep K'hai and Vulcan in character a little. But here ya go, next chapter we see Pitch and K'hai visit the Atlantians. Also, I didn't think I would have to be begging again, but some more reviews would be nice guys. No more chapters till I get some more.

Reviews welcome required,

Tigress in Da Room


	28. Chapter 28: Losing Oneself

A King's Queen: Chapter 28: Losing Oneself

Air whipped and tore around K'hai as she and Fen re-entered Earth's atmosphere. The air split and cracked, and K'hai could not ride any faster. Fen strove tirelessly beneath her, and the huge wolf shared her sense of urgency. As she rode, she tore off her cloak in disgust and threw it into the air. The black fabric was swallowed by a tear in dimensions, and she knew instinctively it was sent back to Rii'k, where she would have to Find it later.

She was sick of hiding in the shadows.

For now at least.

Fenrisúlfur drew level against the smooth azure surface of the ocean, and his thundering paws fell so fast to the pace he set that he streaked across the surface, stirring hardly a ripple. Within minutes, the coast had emerged from the horizon and fen rose back up into the air, now jinking and weaving between dramatic jungle covered mountains and reaching trees. Monkeys chattered at their passing, shocked by the disturbance, and birds flew and trilled in their fluster. K'hai did not even look where she was going: it was as if the nearer she drew to him, the more confused she became.

After another agonizing minute of this, she ordered Fen into the thick trees below, and they landed a rough landing. She vaulted from his back and drew her sword, a purple flame licking up it's edge as her anger roiled. After all this time, she had some idea of where her turmoil was coming from.

With quick, irritable impatience, she whirled around, eyes darting into the dark forest. When he still did not reveal himself, her rage heightened, and she screamed in the wolven-tongue:

'_OU IKTAKEPPE!' where are you?_

The war cry blasted through the forest, the pulse of air rippling vines and shaking leaves from miles around.

In a high mountain hall nearby, the green tea in a chipped cup shuddered, and it's owner winced in discomfort.

Her rage had died down now, from a deadly, pure force, to something potentially much more lethal: the enraged warrior willing to sit for hours unmoving, and open throats without even looking at her target. The K'hai that was quiet and watchful.

No longer a Rissian Warrior.

But a tireless, murdering Huntress.

She dropped he shoulders and leant forwards slightly, so she could only just see from under her brows. Her hair fell forwards to cover her eye, and she did not flick it away. She jogged the mighty sword in her white-knuckled grip, and her voice was low and almost seductive when she said to the weary forest around her:

'_Ce'ke ri fra hallar'oo' It is no use hiding_

The forest around her was still and quiet, even the trees holding their breaths. Her unusually keen hearing heard it: the silence deeper than the silence that had settled, gaps in the little crashes of dust motes hitting each other. Instead to be replaced by the soft, sighing sound of dust motes falling g into warm fur.

A great shadow began to loom from the darkness, and Emotions was foul and rank from his feeding on K'hai's ruptured soul. His blandly colored fur was now stained with blood, soil and substances K'hai had no name for. His blind white eyes were both empty and devoid and alight with rage, and his skeleton, warped and deformed, showed through his thinning and greasy fur.

K'hai kept her vicious, unmoving stance. Her words were quiet to the wolf that circled her, now bigger even than Fen.

'_Look what you are doing to yourself, Ra'siit. You feel the dark burn, don't you? The raging, gnawing sensation to feed until you burst. But you are your own parasite, Meeslek. When you chew at my mind, drain my energy, you fester in your own head, and fade from your bones. We are one and the same, mutt, so why do you consume yourself?'_

The great wolf snarled and yapped rabidly at her mocking words, and his reply was halting and sickly, like a crazy man circling his victim.

'_But what would I do otherwise, Lupita? Little Wolf? You know my meaning when I say to ignore the sparks ignites a fire.'_

'_Yes, but you are eating yourself alive. Can you not shift the fire to some other hearth, consume some other?'_

'_No! You do not understand how I feel. It is an unending loop. I burn and rage for your emotions fed by the weak mortal man you hunger for, and when I feed, I feel my own flesh landing in my stomach. The burn rages even more and I am drained. Even though you now do not feel the rage caused by my bites, I feel the circle deepening. Sanity is slipping from me, Lupita, and perhaps the old Ra'siit may have begged for your mercy'_

K'hai smirked. The wolf barked and hacked and coughed between his rasping words, and he was making her sword arm itch. No one called her Lupita other than Vulcan. She grinned a deathly, malicious grin, the kind plastered across faces of the insane. It was quiet, mad grin that grew from an endless desire to kill and bathe in the blood of enemies. So K'hai's laugh was bright and mocking when she said:

'_Oh I think we both know how that would end, don't we?'_

And at that point, the huge wolf halted. His blind eyes locked with her own bright, pinpointed pupils, and blood gushed from his mouth as he snarled a vicious roar at her. The blood curdling noise, something of a rat like coughing screech, hurtled up the mountains.

The drinker of the green tea covered his ears and wept. Something terrible was happening.

Time slowed to practically a full stop, her senses were so heightened by the loop Emotions had described. But in truth, she moved faster than was possible even for the most elite of immortals, and her blade led her hand, rather than her landing the first blow.

Emotions leapt an inelegant leap, but the movement still made the ground tremble. He jumped high into the air, and K'hai leapt to meet him. Her knee was bent so her leg lay completely folded in half, and the other was stretched out behind her like the shaft of an arrow. It was a leap that made even the most graceful of ballerina's jumps seem like a drunken hop. Her arm was outstretched, reaching for his mouldering fur, and a lion-like roar built in her chest. Another tongue of flame creeped up the glistening edge of her sword, held high above her crackling hair.

She had not even considered making the movement before their bodies collided, and her sword found the path of least resistance. It slid happily into Emotion's heaving breast, and his maddened eyes locked with her own, even as they rolled into his skull.

'_Foolish Lupita. You may have just…killed us both!_'

And then she felt it. Their poses were suspended in mid air, the movement of their bodies a snail's pace compared to racing life-forces and minds. Her eye twitched as she realized what Emotions words meant: what she had just done. The wolf's skeleton hung suspended, even as his tendons, rotting flesh and matted fur fell away in burning shreds. His paw remained outstretched; about to rip her arm from her shoulder, and his legs were still extended from his earth-shattering jump. And then his eyes died fully and rolled back into his skull. K'hai watched the wolf before her burn, and when her sword was within the empty space of his ribcage, he fell to the ground with little more than the creaking of old bones.

And that was when she felt it. The fire making a slow, neat incision in her own chest. Her sword trembled and shook in her hand, and it was either an instinctual scrap of sense to drop it, or the pain was so intense that she lost all control of her body. The fire seared and melted away at her chest, and it was so indescribably painful that she may have hallucinated what she saw.

She saw a ragged hole bored into her chest, the muscles still twitching and nerves still firing. She saw her own corrupted and blackened heart beating an irregular, tribal beat in the open space. Her brain was kind enough to make it the last thing she saw.

And her soul departed her body.

Which fell to the ground, face first, hair splayed, knee bent beneath her. Her arm ironically reaching for a sword just out of reach.

And she fell as silently as a tree falls.

And at that moment, Pitch's tea-cup shattered in his hands.

AN: Gory chapter is gory. Ah, I'm such a troll to my seemingly non-existent reviewers (not you, random Guest from chapter 27, who was *cough* the only person who was kind enough to review) I'm not too impatient for reviews guys, but this fic is coming up for 30 chapters soon and it makes my heart die a little when I see other ROTG fics the same length with twice as many reviews. But they are probably better written to be fair

Reviews kindly requested for resurrection of the Muse,

Tigress in Da Room


	29. Chapter 29: Risen

A King's Queen: Chapter 29: Risen

Pitch glared at his tea cup. For the second time that day, it rattled quietly on it's saucer and the green tea within trembled. It made him feel uneasy. He couldn't exactly hear the source of the shockwaves reaching up the mountain, but he felt them instead. A slow snake of fear wormed it's way around inside him delightfully, but something kicked in and he remembered K'hai's words; _"Keep hold of your Fears and never let them go"_

He glanced at the teacup again, and watched it shudder once more. A flock of bright birds rose from an area of forest below the mountain hall, and he gritted his teeth. Something told him that this was not something to unarmed for, so he retrieved the mortal blade that K'hai had secreted away in his wardrobe at some point and attached it to his belt. He formed up a scythe of sand as well, but he wanted two blades just in case.

Walking on feet as silent as damp feathers, Pitch saddled up one of his Nightmares and let her wander slowly down into the forest. The air was thick and clammy with moisture, and Pitch pushed back the hood of his cloak so he could see wider. Leaves and vines grew without order, all around, but the Nightmare's sharp hooves made short and quiet work of any resisting plants. As they moved through the forest, the darkness and shadows seemed to get deeper; fouler. Once again, Pitch remembered K'hai's words: _"You would not understand the force of Loss. It would feel alien to you, as Fear would to me"_

He drew a deep breath, and tasted the same thick, metallic scent as he did from a long way back, though it could only have been a week or so ago. When he had been laid dead upon the glass alter, beneath the beach of infinite stones. It did not bother him at this time to want to know how he remembered things from time he had spent lifeless. But that soon answered itself.

As they progressed through the forest, the Nightmare drew to a stop. He tried to gently spur her onwards, but she remained stubborn and still. A shape began to loom from the black, and Pitch spun his scythe from horseback in readiness. But the shape solidified into the brightly streaked fur of Loss of Memories, and his round, pink eyes were soft and inviting, like those of a teacher to a disheartened student.

Memories did not say anything, but he seemed to nod to himself, and begin leading the Nightmare through the forest. Immediately his fur blended in with the rainforest, but occasionally Pitch would glimpse a fluffy tail, or perked ear from the undergrowth.

The foul shadows grew so thick that soon he could see nothing, and was trusting the guidance of Memories entirely. He began to hear things whispering and shifting, moving closer and then further away, teasing his senses. They were slowly driving him mad.

Just as he was about to wage war upon the unknowable spectres, the shadows seemed to end abruptly, as if they were thrown against a glass wall. The end of the shadows sharpened up into a circular, sunlight filled clearing, and Pitch could see Fen sitting majestic and quiet, as he always did.

But as the Nightmare continued walking on, he saw that something was wrong. Fen's shoulder blades were tight, and his head seemed to droop. His vibrant orange and green eyes were closed, and it looked like a stance of prayer. At the sound of approaching footfalls, he raised his head slowly, and opened his sombre, sullen eyes. There was sadness in his gaze.

The Nightmare stopped, and Pitch vaulted quietly from her back. He did not say a word or make a sound. It seemed wrong to break the beautiful, innocent silence that had settled. Now he saw that there was a huge skeleton lying splayed across the loamy ground. The jaws, hung with enormous teeth, were wide open, and the hollow eye sockets were already gathering moss. The paws were twisted in expressions of agony, claws popping out. The way the legs lay suggested a failed jump.

Pitch could not think of any wolf bigger than Fen. What had happened here?

Something bright caught his eye. His gaze slowly followed the flash, and traced it back to a shining sword, cast upon the ground. For a moment, he struggled to place the dark, faded metal and leather bound grip. But then he saw her hand, reaching.

Quickly, he knelt by her side. Her hair was splayed over the ground, and she looked as if any moment she may dig her bare toes into the dirt, reach for her sword, and call another victory in a sparring session. But her frame was too relaxed, too peaceful.

Uncertainly, Pitch laid a hand on her shoulder, and gently rolled her over. K'hai's face was neutral, empty. Her quick eyes were lightly closed, and he went to show her eye the world once more when Fen said quietly in his mind.

_Not yet. Not here._

Pitch nodded, and gently shifted her into his arms. She seemed so light and insubstantial, all limp and pale. Her head lolled backwards as he lifted her, bringing her closer to the sun. Now he could see a narrow, straight line cut between her breasts, and the pearly gleam of bone glistened. Pitch looked at Fen, too shocked and confused to feel anything. The mourning wolf stood, and gently touched his nose to her forehead.

_She wanted to be taken to the lake beneath the cliff. We should let her rest there_

He nodded silently, and gently laid K'hai across Fen's back. He mounted up his Nightmare, and with a little kick, jumped up into the air. As soon as K'hai's body left the clearing, the shadows that had been kept at bay swept in and engulfed the mouldering wolf skeleton. But the moist jungle air was sweet upon Pitch's skin, and the bright sun was gentle and warm. He felt the unease he hadn't notice in his chest loosen and dissolve into nothing. A cool, empty buzz. He remembered perfectly all those moments with K'hai, for the short time he had known her. But there was no emotion. He felt cold and dead. He wondered if whatever was left of K'hai felt the same.

He raised his heavy gaze, and saw Fen striking through the air with long, reaching strides. All too easily he could imagine her laying astride his straining back, small hands and long fingers looped into his fur. But now Fen's pace held no weight, he was simply moving from one place to another. Still with the same effortless grace and strength, but without purpose.

Now the great spur of rock behind the mountain hall of Tibet was sharpening up, and a lacy waterfall tumbled from the top. It was fed by the stream his Nightmares drank from when they were grazing in their meadow. The waterfall drained into a clear, deep lake, atop another cliff, but it did not drain away over the edge. Fen touched down upon the smooth shore of the lake, and a light mist rose from it's cool surface. He dipped his noble head and touched his nose to the water, striking ripples across it's immaculate surface.

He sat back up, and looked out to it's distant shore. Something in his gaze told him that this was no dumping of a body that K'hai would most likely have deemed useless without a mind to occupy it; it was a ceremony.

A funeral.

He dismounted neatly from the Nightmare, who then knelt to the water and also dipped her nose into the crisp water. Pitch gently removed K'hai from her back, and laid her on the shore of the lake. He straightened the stray strands of her hair, which hadn't lost it's petrol-lustre. He laid her neatly so her legs were straight, and was about to cross her arms over her chest when Fen nudged his hands and looked to her sword. He drew it from it's sheath, and wrapped her hands around the hilt, which he tucked beneath her chin. The gleaming war sword lay across her chest, it's tip reaching her knees. It looked right for it to be there, as if she had gone from a warrior of the front lines to a guardian of the city gates.

He had done all he could. Pitch stood and looked down at her. She looked peaceful still. But also fierce and watchful, as he had known her to be. Fen nodded, and he began to speak out across the lake, with a quiet, monotonous tone. Pitch found himself knowing the words in his head, though Fen was speaking in the wolven-tongue. He whispered the words also, and he felt a whole army from afar also chanting the whisper.

"_My heart has joined the thousand. Today she runs no more._

_Her sword remains bright, though never to be drawn._

_Each day she spent in battle, now regained in peace._

_Her name shall always be known, forgotten in the least._

_The halls of Valhalla ring; she now has joined their ranks._

_And Time washes on, towards distant banks._

_My heart has joined the thousand. Today she watches no more._

_Every glimpse of danger, now forever shrouds her form._

_She lies in wait, dormant._

_Soon may she rise._

_For my heart has joined the thousand._

_And the hope never dies"_

Fen rose from his sentinel and barked three times. The sound echoed loud and clear across the lake, and Pitch saw faintly the spectral figures that had lined the bank nod amongst themselves and dissipate into the mists.

Fen then ghosted his breath across K'hai's body, and Pitch's heart skipped.

Her eyes fluttered.

Her chest rose slightly.

Her grip tightened on her sword.

And she stayed that way.

Apparently having woken from death into a deep sleep. Fen tucked his nose beneath her elbow and began to roll her into the water. But Pitch held his shoulder and said quietly;

'Wait'

Obediently, Fen stopped his pushing and let her roll back onto the soft shore. Something in the way he sat back expectantly told Pitch that Fen had been waiting for this.

'I think she may be in the Centre.'

_Why?_

'Just a feeling. It would explain why Loss of Loved has not come to ferry her'

_Perhaps_

Fen looked out once more to the shore, and kept watch. Pitch knelt by her side, and gently took her hand. It worried him that even though someone he considered an exceptionally close friend had died; he could still slip into the meditative state for reaching the Centre of Everything with ease.

Pitch opened his eyes, and instead of finding himself drifting among bright stars, he felt soft grass beneath his feet, and the skies above were swimming with vibrant clouds and shining stars. A great gate rose upwards, it's top too far to be seen, and the wrought iron gates were slowly opening noiselessly. He saw a figure in front of the opening, silhouetted against the pale light from the mist writhing within. It took him a moment to figure out who it was. And then his feet began to stumble, and he broke into a hell-for-leather sprint.

'K'hai!' he shouted, chest heaving with exhaustion. She seemed to be getting no closer.

She turned, but did not walk to him. A sorrowful smile was upon her lips, and her violet eyes were filled with tears, which he had never seen before. She did not look like the sure, confident and quiet warrior he had known to have the heart of a lion and the loyalty of a wolf. Quite suddenly, Pitch found himself face to face with her, and when she raised her hand and laid it flat against his, he could feel nothing.

'You're a ghost…'

She smiled sadly.

'Apparently so. But not for long, I hope. I never meant harm, Pitch. I didn't mean to hurt you. Almost three times now you have died because of me, and now I've slain myself-'

Her tears welled over, and she fell into his arms, though he could not feel her weight, only a ghost of warmth. He gently smoothed her hair and let her weep. He realized he may never have really known K'hai at all.

'What happened?'

She let out a shuddering breath, and blinked away her tears.

'After I returned from my flight, I tried to Find you. To apologize for being such a coward. But Emotions was feeding on me, consuming himself, and I couldn't help but slay him. But when I did, I think I slew part of myself, for we were one and the same. My sword shook in my grip, and would have broken from slaying it's own if I hadn't dropped it. I tore myself to pieces. My body died, and my mind shattered, and I don't even know what is left of me.'

He drew her tighter, not letting her walk into the fog.

'That is why I feel nothing for you now, as if my emotions have all been dulled. Because there is no Emotions, anymore, is there?'

She shook her head, and watched fearfully from over his shoulder. She seemed so much younger, as if she were just seeing the slaying of a dragon, or the tormented screams of the burning.

'I heard it, you know. The Thanking. Someone was playing the Song of Valhalla, but it wasn't right. That is why Loved has not claimed me yet.'

'You haven't died, K'hai'

'I-'

He held her insubstantial shoulders and held her watery gaze.

'Promise me! I still need you to train me, the armies still need you. The women of Rii'k still need you.'

'The Nothing…'

'Three months K'hai. I am trusting you'

And he let go of her shoulders, and she was immediately drawn into the lacy hands of the mists beyond the gate. He felt it, the call and draw. He had to push her, show her to wherever she was needed. As she went, he called out the words of the Thanking to her, and it seemed to comfort her immediately livid eyes.

'My heart has joined the thousand. Today she runs no more. My heart has joined the thousand, though she watches evermore…'

She was reaching for him, kicking and scratching against the mist. Her jaw was stretched in her cries, and her fangs were glistening as saliva leaped from her mouth. She was rabid with Fear.

'I can do nothing K'hai. Trust in me, as I trust in you. Please'

His voice was emotionless, but it still cracked in pain.

And she was gone. He let himself fall back to his body on Earth, and he saw that Fen had floated her sleeping body out onto the lake. As he watched, a great dragon with a flowing crest rose elegantly from the water. It's milky wings glistened, and water trembled in the air around it. It held the moment, poised.

And then Ressmir silently sank into the waters of the lake, taking K'hai with it. A bright light bloomed beneath the surface of the water, and was gone. The skeleton of Emotions fell into a pile of dust where it lay.

And a tiny wolf emerged from the ashes. His yelp was heard by all.

Fen left wordlessly, perhaps to find the source of the little wolf's yap.

And Pitch was left by the lake, not feeling, thinking, or doing anything.

He was helpless but to wait.

And hope.

AN: MY FEELS D: omg this was almost painful to write. But I promise this is the LAST TIME I kill off a main character. Also, going on holiday next week, so no updates then I'll be back for three days and try to update then, cause I'm going to Oxfordshire with a friend for 4 days :D

See you soon guys,

Tigress in Da Room


	30. Chapter 30: Born from the Depths

A King's Queen: Chapter 30: Born from the Depths

K'hai's body sank slowly, down through the dark waters. Little bubbles escaped her mouth, and her joints went loose and her muscles went lax. Her hair fanned out in the gentle currents, and her whole form began to glow.

Light shone from within her body, and her spine arched silently in intense pain. Her stifled scream echoed out through the water, pure and unhindered by it. She could not breathe.

Bolts of fire startled and cracked along her veins and bones, and adrenaline coursed into the flames. Had she been on land, her breaths would have been shallow and rapid, but her jaw was tightly locked to prevent the heartless water from jumping in.

Her body was now so enshrouded in light that she could not be seen save for a blinding glow. Her skin felt like nothing but a container for pure magma and to a creature of the Darkness, any more light would begin to poison her.

Her chest fluttered and heaved, so desperate for breath. But the cold, icy water forced her airways shut, and she was helpless but to continue sinking, a ball of flames in inky depths. There was but one thing to save her from the jaws of Loss of Loved now, but in such a weak and fragile state she would not be able to Find it now.

Down and down she fell, the darkness getting deeper and deeper. Her already meagre struggles faded to little kicks and twitches every few seconds, and the dangerous light within her split chest began to dim. It soon faded to small sparks and crackles of electricity running random lines over her skin. Then to tiny, irregular flickers like a light bulb about to burst.

Eventually the light stopped altogether. And her convulsions ceased.

The mighty warrior gave up.

And let the water in.

She drew a deep, slow breath. Dark liquid filled her lungs, pulsed weakly through her veins. But she did not drown. The water around her carried dark threads of old magic, from the birth of the planet. The threads crawled into her mouth and nose, and proceeded to squirm all around her.

As they travelled, they healed her cuts. Mended her bones. Cooled her burns.

And soothed her heart.

Her pulse quickened from the dangerously low pulse that had risked making her body mortal once more, where she would have died instantly. Her muscles grew stronger, and the sword that had been about to drift from her grip was drawn close once more. Her brow furrowed in the dull throbbing pain of this healing, and her eyes fluttered open.

She could see the light from above dimming as she continued to sink, and slippery arms of seaweed began to reach up around her. Their stems travelled downwards to seemingly infinite depths, and the silky ribbons lashed and twined lazily, mockingly.

K'hai continued to struggle into her new form though, and she tried to give purpose to her thrashings. She rippled her spine in a serpentine motion, and had she been stronger, the movement would have sent her rocketing towards the surface. But she was working from mere instincts, and that curious state between sleep and wakefulness.

She continued to sink, faster and faster, and was soon lost amongst the dreadfully thick tendrils of seaweed.

Impish, old and young, began to chatter and whisper and laugh, and they lit a spark of anger somewhere within her sparking mind. The voices soon attached themselves to slim, sleek shadows that darted and twirled among the seaweed, circling. The older voices belonged to slower, bonier shapes the stalked and swam quietly and slowly.

With gentle hands, the Forgotten Sirens began to pull her downwards; dainty, delicate fingers snaked around her waist and ankles, and older, gnarled claws plucked at her wrists and neck.

They whispered both words of quiet encouragement and mocking taunts. They were both gentle and rough, and the motions jolted her mind into over drive.

K'hai finally completed her transformation, even as seaweed fused itself to her pale skin. Her legs bound together into a long, sleek tail. Her fingers became webbed. Eyes enlarged in the darkness, and her ears became spined, fin-like structures that heard for miles around. Her bones became slighter and more elfin, and her whole skeleton became much more angular. Her skin armoured itself with tiny, glittering grey scales, and her tail was plated with sharper plates of silver.

The spark of anger burst into a full fire, and she whipped and lashed her razor sharp fins at the Sirens. They smiled toothy, half-mad smiles in both their success for raising her and failure of recruiting her.

She burst from their grip, pulling herself from their serrated claws, streaking her slippery form with dark, shallow gashes. Her tail fin slashed and bit at their pale skin, old and wrinkled or soft and firm alike. The black water misted over with the rotten, green blood of the Sirens, and her dark blue Mer blood.

Her snakelike tongue tasted the thick syrupy substances in the water, and her skin stung and tingled where she tore herself from the seaweed's loving embrace.

She rippled her spine, keen eyes piercing the gloom instantly. Within seconds, she could see the Sirens circling. One bold, young creature, with buxom curves, flowing red hair and pure black eyes pressed her rosy red lips against hers, twining her slender tail and silky fin around K'hai. For a moment her tail beats halted and she almost accepted the kiss.

But she slashed at the deranged Siren's face with her own deathly claws, and broke the hypnotic kiss. She rippled her body harder now, knowing that if she did not escape their loving pulls toward the darkness or their hurried shoves to the light she would remain trapped there.

Forever.

The motion built, slowly getting stronger and stronger, propelling her to the surface. The Sirens clucked and cawed, screeched and laughed, and became a frenzied swarm around her.

She was still not strong enough.

She slashed and bit at the hands and tails that looped themselves around her, but their forms pressed in closer, stifling her, pushing to the surface and pulling to the bottom. The forces would rip her apart soon.

The burning fire was stoked and stoked, until an enormous explosion of hate and anger coiled in her chest. It was so strong that fir an instant, she lost her higher thoughts and reverted back to ferocious, animalistic form that all Mer grew from.

The war cry escaped her roaring mouth, and an atomic pulse raced through the water. The Sirens drifted and twisted back in the water, stunned. K'hai's body powered upwards, spine rippling like liquid silk. Her new muscles stretched and pulled in perfect synchrony, and they rippled supplely under her shimmering grey skin.

She rocketed towards the surface, gills on her neck opening and closing rapidly, and she heaved enormous breaths of empty water. She now reached with her hands, thrusting her sword up into the water, splitting it away, speeding her passage even further.

The burgeoning surface drew nearer and nearer, and now K'hai was swimming so fast that each beat of her sharp, elaborate purple fin sent pulses through the hateful water. The bright light became even brighter, and with a loud, gurgling roar she sprang from the water and up into the air.

Her scales shimmered and glittered in the air, and the Mer cry echoed across the air despite the fact it was strongest in water. Her webbed fingers splayed in the warm sunlight, veins showing through the thin grey skin. Her hair danced and tossed in the breeze, and her whole, curving posture screamed of a prisoner broken free, and a mighty warrior slaying her greatest enemy.

The Guardian of Loss was reborn

**AN: I'm back guys! :D sorry if this was confusing, but I wanted to try and show how K'hai's mind was torn between two destinies during her healing. Whether to sink and join the Sirens, or fight on an empty breath and reach the surface. I wanted her whole character to appear undecided and in turmoil, and that almost all the while she was pretty much unconscious or in an animalistic rage. I hope I managed to capture all that XD**

**Reviews Welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	31. Chapter 31: Disappointed to see me?

A King's Queen: Chapter 31: 'Disappointed to see me?'

Pitch's head snapped up. Soft meadow grass swayed around him. Warm sunlight fell from above, and the mountains around echoed with an unworldly, ululating cry. He heard an almighty splash and hurried to his feet, looking out over the edge of the cliff. The great, dark lake beneath had foamy white ripples across it's surface, and he watched with a mixture of curiosity and worry as the waves lapped against the shores, then faded.

Wind rifled his hair in the pausing moment

Even with keen eyes, Pitch could not be entirely sure of what he next saw.

A slim, dark shape began to circle beneath the surface. At first, he placed it as a shark, but then arms became apparent, as well as current-carried hair. It was a person.

_Oh Gods…she truly is dead..._

His whole form stiffened in a roiling mixture of emotions. Her body continued to drift beneath the water. As much as he tried to say goodbye, she was too stubborn to give up. He considered calling upon Fenrisúlfur as to what he should do, but decided to get a little closer. To see her face one last time.

With quiet, soundless steps, Pitch picked his way down the narrow path to the shores of the lake. No fog swirled languorously at it's shores today, and the water was perfectly clear, showing the infinite depths it reached down to, impenetrable shadows that the Nightmare King could not see into.

He knelt by the surface of the lake, holding his breath still, straining to listen. Even through his shadows and Nightmares, he could not hear anything. But something nagged on the edges of his hearing; a curious ringing sound, like that made after an echo of a laugh returns to one's hearing. It did not seem out of place though, and it was terribly easy to ignore it.

Pitch felt the heavy, muffled steps of Fenrisúlfur behind him, and the great wolf lay down by the lake, staring out across the surface by laying his muzzle flat to the ground and looking along his nose, unmoving.

_You still mourn, Dark Rider. Why so?_

Pitch huffed quietly in a mixture of confusion and irritation.

_I do not mourn. That time has come and gone. But what am I meant to do with myself when I have no one to teach me?_

Fenrisúlfur chuckled lowly, the deep sound echoing in the King's mind.

_Perhaps she meant for that. She was always one for wanting to be on people's minds. She is not gone, though_

Pitch looked across sharply at the wolf, rocking back on his heels. In return, the wolf arched his thick eyebrows in mock surprise.

_Do not tell me you did not know!_

_Of course I knew, Fuzzy, but I found it a little…hard to believe. She had a stab wound to the _chest, _Fen, she should be dead!_

_She was very close. I could hear Loved running to his mistress. But he was in no true hurry. He knew she had a chance to live. I know that you Found her at the Gate. To the fields of Valhalla. What did she say?_

_She said she slew a part of herself. When Loss of Emotion was feeding off her confusion and emotions, feeding into a loop from when I… tried my luck, she lost control and killed him. But he was a part of her, wasn't he? So damage she did to him she did to herself._

_You are correct, Ak-ra. But do not speak of Loss of Emotions in the past tense. Guardians are immortal, remember?_

Pitch frowned. But when he thought about it, Fen had a point. Each day that passed, the hollow ache in his chest where emotions once would have tumbled like out of control freight trains was slowly filling in. he felt them growing stronger each day.

The he remembered the tiny little wolf that Fen had carried to the meadow by the scruff of his dourly-coloured neck, yowling for all he was worth.

_My God… they're like phoenixes! He was born again from his ashes!_

Fen continued to stare out across the lake, smiling in his canine way.

_Just like her._

_Yes, just like h-, wait, what?_

In response, Fen flicked his ears towards the lake. _Look_

Pitch frowned out across the water. What he had thought to be K'hai's body was now drawing nearer and nearer to the surface, drifting closer to the shore. The sleek shadow slowly ribboned through the water, a complete part of it. He watched in stunned silence, caught in the light, as the water curved at the surface, then broke in shimmering rivulets across, _something_

The thing continued to rise from the water, still rippling like a snake. The water stopped running from it's head, and that was when Pitch's heart stopped.

It was K'hai.

Water broke across her gaunt cheekbones, her exceptionally large, almond shaped eyes glittering moistly. The bright purple orbs had no pupils, but shone with so much depth they appeared as polished opals, infinite pools of colour. Her hair was a dark, inky purple as well, no longer black, and her skin was still grey, but shot through with teal and green beneath the surface, the same colour as beautiful, aged stone.

Pitch felt his jaw drop, and her blue-tinged lips cracked into a smile, showing teeth all as sharp as fangs, serrated as well.

She folded her arms up upon the bank, and looked up at him

_Surprised to see me?_

The King lost his cool

'You're supposed to be dead!'

Her brows, rows of sharp little spines, rose up and she pouted dramatically in mock disappointment.

_You seem disappointed_

'I-I'm not disappointed! But I watched you sink, K'hai. Watched you be tugged beneath the surface. I thought you were truly gone. It was funeral.'

_Not a funeral. A rebirth. The Mer form is the hardest to adopt, but can snatch almost anyone from the jaws of death. But that in itself almost took me. Light pulsed in my veins, poisoning me. Sirens waited below, trying to tie me down. But Mer rage, particularly in the animalistic form of rebirth, is near unstoppable, and they stood no chance._

Pitch let out a deep, shuddering breath.

'Well at least you're back now. I had nothing to with myself, other than think how much time was slipping away until the Nothing'

With surprising speed for being immersed in restrictive water, K'hai reached up and cuffed him sharply round the back of the head.

_Fool of a man! You had plenty you could do. I taught you your Fae form, did I not? Taught you how to spar, did I not? You should have been sharing your new knowledge with the other Guardians; and who knows, they may have had something to teach to _you_ in return. But that time has been and gone, for now we should make haste. We are needed in Atlantis_

Pitch rolled his eyes.

'In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have the right anatomy for such travel'

She grinned mischievously, something he hadn't realised that he had missed up until now.

_That is something I intend to solve._

~0O0~

A few minutes later, Pitch was standing, shirtless and shaking, at the edge of the meadow cliff. Strong winds threatened to knock him off his unsteady feet, and K'hai circled with impatience in the water below.

_Come now, do not tell me an immortal such as you is afraid of a little jump! And the King of Fear on top of that!_

'Easy for you to say!'

The drop below him was several hundred feet, and even with being immortal, a poor dive was certain to be painful. And Pitch had never dived in his life. K'hai had insisted he remove his clothes, but he had kept his trousers on, even though he knew they would be split by the transformation.

_Just let yourself fall. The water will catch you._

Angrily, he thought back,

_Yes, and then what do I do, let myself drown? _

_It will be easier to make the shift if your senses are overwhelmed, and you cannot tell up from down. You will have nothing to focus on, other than the water around you. You must imagine becoming a part of it, moving through it. Breathing it into your veins._

_Otherwise known as drowning._

His petulance seemed to anger K'hai, and she disappeared beneath the surface in a slick flash of her silvery tail. He thought she had gone, and left him to follow.

_It won't work you know!_

No reply.

But then her shadow came darting up from the depths, faster than he would have imagined possible, and she burst from the water, reaching up into the air, sword bound at her hip with strands of seaweed. It flashed in the sun as she continued to rocket upwards. In an easy shifting of air, she dropped her Mer form and Found her Fae one. With a few quick beats, she came level with him, and halted in the air.

As she locked her impish eyes with his unwilling ones, he suddenly realised what she was about to do. She reached out and grabbed his bare shoulders, pulling him off the cliff and down with her as she fell.

And Fae and rider alike plummeted into the water.

**AN: Long time no update I know, but I was procrastinating a lot over all my fanfics, particularly this one, purely because I knew it would be a fart to write. And it was. But here ya go, enjoy :) Also, Ak-ra means 'young' in the wolfish tongue**

**P.s: see that ickle blue box below? That's a review box! I'm now going to work off that fact that I would like feedback off each chapter as to what you guys would like in the next; I'm letting you have some free rein over where you want the story to go next :D**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	32. Chapter 32: The Mer

A King's Queen: Chapter 32: The Mer

K'hai held the King close as they hurtled towards the water. Her dark wings wrapped around his form, and she closed her eyes, bracing for the impact. Her shoulders burned as they impacted the crisp surface of the lake, and she stifled a gasp of pain.

Quickly rotating her wings, she drove them down beneath the water. Already her lungs began to burn. Pitch, however, was already clawing his way towards the surface.

_No! Not yet! _

_I need to breathe!_

_No, you don't. Slow down. Stop. Do you still need to breathe?_

Suddenly pausing his frantic efforts, Pitch floated stock still in the water, hair drifting about his face. His bright gold eyes were dazed, hands shaking slightly

_No…I don't._

_Good. Watch how I change._

K'hai slowly began to turn a somersault in the water. As the liquid moved over her skin, she once more became covered in the tiny scales, shimmering in the muted light. Her legs bound together, becoming longer and more fluid. She completed her turn, and wide purple pools gazed back at the King. She sat back slightly with a flick of her dark silver tail, and waited.

_As the water moves over you, imagine it sinking through your skin. Becoming a part of it. You are not hindered by it at all. Breathing will come naturally_

There was still doubt in his eyes, but after a moment of bearing the steely resolution in her own, he began to lean backwards in the water, tiny bubbles stirring. She watched, riveted, as his skin turned first, becoming sleek and smooth with miniscule scales just like her own. She watched as the bones beneath his skin began to shift, re-aligning and becoming slighter, sharper. But the smooth, liquid movement he had been making halted, and he hunched in on himself. Bubbles escaped his mouth as he silently arched and writhed in pain. Seeing he was about to gasp, K'hai did the only thing she could.

She firmly grasped his shoulders and brought his face close to hers. She made sure he was watching her calm movements as she took a deep breath of water in through her nose. She rested her long fingers against his jaw and brought his face close to hers. Gently, but firmly, she pressed her lips to his and let out her held breath, filling his lungs with air.

_Relax. I'll breathe for both of us. _

His eyes darted around in panic for a moment, and then fluttered shut. Shoulders now rising and falling slowly, deeply, Pitch let the water take hold of him. His bones finished shifting, and K'hai was aware of his shredded trousers falling away into the depths. She felt tiny slithers of sin and flesh against her own as his growing tail slashed about in the water. When the smooth skin felt instead as sleek, sharp scales, she parted their lips and pushed away from him slightly. Immediately he held his breath again, panicking straight away. She just smiled in response and gestured her webbed hands.

_See for yourself. Still think I am a liar?_

The Nightmare King glanced down as she told him too, not entirely sure what had just happened or what he expected to see. The glassy golden orbs darted down, and he saw his tail instinctively waving back and forth with strong strokes to keep him level in the water. His scales were dark and black, sharply pointed, as if he were plated in armour. His tail fin was great and sharp, like a firm plate as opposed to K'hai's silky, flowing fin. His fingers were also webbed, and as he dragged them across his neck, he felt several rows of what felt like scars.

_Just breathe. I promise you will be fine._

He looked at the other Mer across from him, and drew a tiny breath. The scars opened, and he felt water rush in between them, then out. No pain. No drowning.

That was when he fully returned from his drifting and truly looked down. He whirled and twisted slightly, trying to see everything at once. He also found himself grinning like an idiot.

_By the gods…it actually worked!_

_Of course it did! I would not pull you beneath the waves if I did not think you could swim them._

She made a little, swift loop in content. Scales flashing, she began rippling down, down into the depths. With an awkward cresting motion, he joined her. As they descended, her eyes began to glow brightly, as did his own, lighting their way. Little lines of dots began to glow along her arms too, and she seemed to light up in the darkness, hair drifting in the light currents. He could not speak to her through the water, as Mer communicate telepathically, but he reached out to both her mind and her hand as they went, bringing her to a halt.

_Thank you K'hai. If you had not calmed me, I'm sure I would have drowned._

The words echoed softly in her head, and she turned to him.

_No. thank you for bringing me to this place, so I might have another chance at existence. I am no longer afraid._

And this time, it was she who leant in and brought their lips together, though it was not to share breath. A little shiver shuddered through her as she moved her soft lips against his, tails twining together. Their hands ran through each other's hair, and Pitch got the impression that it was not a kiss of want. But rather one that she was afraid of losing him. That despite what she said, she was still deeply fearful of the war drawing ever nearer.

They would need each other.

Wordlessly, she broke away and continued down into the abyss, the Nightmare King following.

They were going to pay a visit to the Atlantians.

AN: Thank you to Agrippina Pelage for reviewing and basically helping me to get m but in gear now really going to steam ahead with this fic and out all my others on hold. I'll try not to leave it so long between updates, but once again I have science GCSEs coming up (whoop-dee-doo), but I shall try my best :D

Reviews Welcome,

Tigress in Da Room

Ps: what I said about taking requests for where you guys would like the story to go is still up for grabs- let me know what you want to happen next!


	33. Chapter 33: Sunken City

A King's Queen: Chapter 33: Sunken City

Pitch watched with ever growing curiosity as K'hai's Mer body rippled and swayed below him. She moved with grace and efficiency, not wasting a movement, parting the water like silk. As she had said, the Mer form allowed true mastery over the water, as the Fae form allowed for true mastery over the air. It was something the same feeling, of being completely at home. Though where being a Fae in the air felt exhilarating, being a Mer in the water felt slow and dark and powerful, almost lustful.

Though perhaps the lust may have come from the woman rippling away into the depths. The scales of the Mer had accentuated her curves even more, and though she was moving quickly, Pitch could not be sure, but he thought she was naked. No sea shell bustiers here apparently.

She had spoken of the seaweeds and sirens beneath, and true, there was seaweed, but only strands of it floating towards the surface, suspended in mid water. No vicious shapes circled the shadows, and Pitch was uncertain as to whether they had really been there at all. But K'hai, and whatever curious emotions her presence sparked in him, was back. For now at least.

The King could not help but wonder as to what would happen if they both survived the war with the Nothing. Where she would go back to after? That was another thing. Did she have somewhere to return to at all? Tooth had her palace, North his workshop, Bunnymund his warrens. Even Jack had his quiet little lake, and Pitch, of course, had his various lairs.

But those thoughts were pushed from the forefront of his mind as they moved deeper into the depths, now winding through pale tunnels of stone, spikes reaching from both above and below. It seemed for hours they were traversing the maze, but at last the inky water began to lighten.

The two Myrish guardians twined their way out into what looked like the lake. Until they had entered the caves, the lake had descended straight down for possibly miles. The same was true of this section, though they must have been closer to the surface as K'hai's scales immediately began to glisten in the sunlight pouring from above. It set her hair into purple flames, silvery scales becoming shining armour. She was silhouetted perfectly, and all too clearly, he could feel her kiss of thanks once more. He brushed his webbed fingers over his lips in thought, but only for a moment.

She was his…commander. Sparring partner. Teacher. Nothing more. Nothing less. He wouldn't set her to ruin once more. Next time, she may not bother to seek help from the Siren's depths.

Almost sensing his thoughts, she flicked a smirk over her shoulder and rippled her spine so hard it would shatter a human body. She rocketed towards the surface, leaving the suggestion of a race in her wake of bubbles.

_Race you!_

_You're on!_

Pitch grinned predatorily. With a great scooping motion, he beat his tail back and forth, catching up with K'hai quickly. Her tail kept eluding his grasp though, and as they broke the water's surface, he managed to scrape his nails along her fins, only succeeding to send drops of water into his sunlight-blinded eyes.

She laughed a true, sweet sound full of nothing but glee and mirth. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard her laugh quite like that.

_You raced well_

_Yes, and you fall even better!_

The slight resistance of his nails over her flesh had knocked her balance in the air, and she twisted as she plummeted back towards the still bubbling water, bruised from their antics. She was not stupid enough to let him get away with it though and she looped her fingers around his wrist as she fell, pulling him with her. Pitch made a sound of surprise and indignance, and K'hai's laugh became encapsulated in bubbles as they plunged beneath the surface. She did not hurry down to the depths once more however, and was quite content to float on the surface, lazily flicking her tail back and forth.

_We can rest for a moment. It is not far to El'amra Brilhantê_

_What does that mean?_

_It means 'The Glimmering' in Atlantian. It is their name for their city, and it's lands._

_Well I take it the other Atlantians don't travel their city naked._

_Whoever said I was naked?_

At that moment, K'hai rolled over and revealed that she was wearing a flowing, sheer gown of gossamer with tiny beads sewn into it irregularly, like trapped bubbles. It was only fastened at the collarbone by a shiny white seashell, but the currents held the lines and shape of the garment so it did not float open. At its longest point it reached the bottom of her ribs. The long sleeves were sheer against her sleek skin, and they twined in the water like ribbons.

Pitch almost wished she could Find something a little more…well, more, to cover herself with. The Obsidian he had grown used to, but this liking of sheer fabrics would be the end of his self control, he was sure of it.

'What are we needed for in Atlantis?'

K'hai rolled over once more so she was floating on her belly. She looked out across the horizon as she explained;

'They are another great army to be rallied. A whole race, in fact. Atlantis is not the only Mer settlement, where men have populated the land, Mer have populated the seas. I intend to find the royal family, and warn them. That way, the public can be rallied and a true sense of battle worked up. The battalions can be called, and the sirens and the forges can turn out Mer armour.'

Pitch nodded slowly. How had such a seemingly large realm remained unbeknownst to him and the humans that trod the earth? The cities must be incredibly well hidden.

'Come. We are expected'

She slid beneath the surface with naught but a ripple and Pitch joined her. For around an hour or so they swam down to the depths, away from the open sea they had raced into.

The water continued to darken, each stroke taking them deeper. Shoals of silvery fish swam past with no concern, and great sharks patrolled the deeper reaches. When they reached the seabed, it was completely flat and barren. Nothing roamed it's surface but a few spiky sea urchins.

_Where is it?_

_You look but you do not see. Don't search for it. Feel for it._

As she told him to, he closed his eyes and immediately felt a sense of everything living nearby. He could feel their energies like pulses in the water, and he saw their forms as glowing shapes behind his eyelids. The muddy seabed became transparent, and Pitch could now see that there was an enormous chasm about half a mile ahead.

_The Marianas Trench?_

_No, an offshoot of it, but just as deep. It is there that El'amra Brilhantê lies._

She pointed with a webbed hand, and when he opened his eyes once more, he could see a slight blue-green glow coming from ahead. They swum towards it and peeked over the edge of the trench. What lay there was more awe inspiring than anything Pitch had ever seen.

An enormous, shifting bubble of blues greens and purples sat in the bottom of the trench. Smaller bubbles clung to the steep sides of the cliffs, and pastures of sea grass wove in between them. Herds of creatures he guessed were the equivalent of horses moved among the grass, occasionally singing a few bell-like notes.

K'hai dove over the edge and the King followed. As they drew nearer and nearer, he could see rippling reflections of tall white towers within the bubbles, and round, pale houses in the smaller one. Near the bottom of the trench, great plumes of black smoke rose, and pools of bright lava boiled up from beneath. Mer people worked tirelessly at these, with hammer and anvil and tong, forging armour and weapons under such pressure that the steel tempered harder than diamond. K'hai waved to them as they passed, and they called low, booming shouts back to her.

_I thought Mer couldn't communicate underwater?_

_There are exceptions_

The same smith waved them over, and with a swift twirl in the water, K'hai changed her course and sat back lightly in the water before the Mer smith. He waved for her once more, and they passed through the wall of the bubble. As Pitch watched from above, her tail split apart, and she touched down lightly upon the cooled lava floor within. They shared a few words, and she waved for Pitch to enter the bubble also. As directed to, Pitch began to push his way through the bubble.

It felt cool and liquid, different from the water around. He was very ginger about it at first, for fear he would burst the structure, but K'hai gently pulled his wrist and as he passed through the bubbles, the extra ribs within his tail separated and he found he had feet once more. As he went through, K'hai discreetly and swiftly knotted a robe about his waist. Her own gown had lengthened to cover everything that needed covering. The smith did not seem at all that concerned though.

He too wore a simple bolt of fabric around his waist. His skin was darkly tanned, and his hair short and black. His eyes were also black though, and gills still fluttered against his neck. The Mer man settled back against his anvil and waved a webbed hand.

_What brings you here, Masika? It has been many, many moons since you last visited this city, and even more since you bore my armour. I can only assume you bring news of the surface?_

K'hai nodded sagely and slowly closed her brilliant purple eyes. She seemed tired.

_I do bring tidings, Chimalli. Though they are dark ones. I can already see you and your under forges are labouring day and night to produce your finest armour and weapons._

_You are right, Masika. The High Princess has requested it._

_Ah. She is not as short sighted as I had feared. Do you know what she prepares for?_

_Even she does not know what we are arming ourselves against. She said she could 'feel a dark tide rising'. What does it mean?_

K'hai rose from the wall she had been leaning against and clapped Chimalli's shoulder.

_It means we are to fight a war. I'm going into the city, to try and convince the council to call the city to arms. Meantide, might I request that my old armour be polished and it's edges sharpened? I have a feeling I shall need it later. Oh, and how long will it take you to forge a chest plate and helm to fit my friend here?_

_Three days, at least._

_Damn. We have hours, not days. Find him what you can and don your own armour. War is coming to El'amra Brilhantê. Spread the word._

K'hai pushed through the wall of the bubble once more, and pulled pitch with her.

Now fully Mer again, Pitch was brimming with questions.

_What does Masika mean?_

_It is the name they have given me here. It means 'born in rain' in Atlantian._

_What is this war that the High Princess mentioned?_

_For many years, the Atlantians have struggled to keep their lands against the Krakens, terrible, destructive creatures. Each year they swell their armies a little more, and sharpen their tridents a little keener. I have known for some time now that there have been increasing numbers of Kraken sightings, but there has not been a raid in almost 2 years. Rightly, the High Princess has been getting suspicious. Though it is known that the corrupt Council are the ones who run the cities._

_Will we be welcome?_

_By the commoners, yes. But the high lords and ladies, I cannot say. I think you'll find that a strong shout carries far here though._

_Are we here to call the Atlantians to arms against the Nothing?_

_Ultimately yes, but getting the Council to agree to stir themselves over the upcoming Kraken attack will be difficult. I saw that the Kraken are massing, and aim to strike this sundown. I cannot be sure, but I have a feeling that the Nothing has sent them to raze Atlantis and its lands to the seabed. _

_Why? They are just another nation of people._

_Yes, but Atlantis guards an incredibly powerful secret. In the heart of the city, high above any tower that can reach it, is El'amra Maiyak; The Reach. It is a portal to any location the travellers requests. If the Nothing gained control of it through the Kraken, it could quash this world in an instant and have almost unlimited access to others. We cannot Lose The Reach. _

AN: So if you wanted to see K'hai and Pitch arrive in Atlantis, I think maybe you should see some plotting first

Reviews Welcome,

Tigress in Da Room


	34. Chapter 34: Author's Notes

Authors Notes: sorry guys!

As you might have noticed, I've seriously been struggling to keep my updates regular and close together on all my fics. This is mainly because I have had a fuck-ton of exams recently, and only more to come, as well as the fact that all the time I would have been writing in I've either not been in the right frame of mind to write, or I've been role-playing my OC on Tumblr. The Tumblr thing's just starting to take off, so until it's got a good steady set of threads coming and going, I probably won't be updating anything with the quantity or quality of work I was before, if ever.

There might be an occasional one-shot now and again, but nothing absolutely stellar, purely because I'm not in the mood for oneshots at the moment, but I will get the requests I currently have done.

Probably the only thing I will update when I can is my ROTG fic, A King's Queen, because I'm really getting into it as I've AU'ed and OC'd it so much that I hardly have to keep original characters in character anymore and it's also getting closer and closer to the climax of that particular story.

So, in short, updates will most likely be put on hold for an unknown length of time, but the ROTG fic will be the priority when it comes to updates. Also, the other fics are on hold because I feel like I hardly know my characters and plots anymore, so I seriously need to take a step back and look at how I'm writing everything. Updates will resume regular pattern at some point, most likely near the summer holidays here in England.

Keep following guys, I will get round to everything eventually ,

Tigress in Da Room

P.s: All those of you that have faithfully reviewed, favourite and followed thus far, you have my thanks for putting up with and supporting me for so long. Peace out dudes.


	35. Chapter 34: Dawning Battle

A King's Queen: Chapter 34: Dawning Battle

Much the same way as they had done when entering the Myrish forge, Pitch and K'hai pushed through the bubble-like wall that enveloped the city of Atlantis. As her feet touched down upon the smooth, thin flagstones of the wide stone path, she flicked up the hood of her blouse-gown and continued to walk. The motion was swift and perfectly coordinated: Nothing looked out of the ordinary. As they passed a stall, K'hai wordlessly lifted a hooded cloak from a hanger and threw it around Pitch's bare shoulders. Taking the hint, he also turned up his hood against the stifling air of the market streets. They moved through the crowds swiftly and with purpose, only stopping to send off two messenger boys, barely tall enough to reach her knees they were so young.

K'hai knelt down to them and produced two pearly coins in each hand, placing one in the palm of each messenger. To one, she told him to run as fast as he could to the High Palace and warn both the Princess and Council of an extremely important arrival to be taken in as soon as possible. To the other, she told him to run as swiftly as he could around the city to anyone he knew who owned armour that a battle was dawning and to be ready by the Eastern gate. She also told him to be careful of whom he brought his message to: She could not have panic spreading.

As the children bobbed and weave their way through the crowds, sheer green messenger's cloaks whirling in their urgency, she took the King's wrist and pulled him with more speed through the crowds. It seemed as if they were getting nowhere, the mighty spires of the High Palace never getting any closer. Pitch would have loved to stop and look at everything for but a moment, but every second they wasted was one second the supposed Kraken were to razing Atlantis to the seabed.

But soon enough, K'hai was leading him up the high flights of wide white steps and through the stone doors of the High Palace. The floor beneath was perfectly polished glass, and was so shiny that it made everything seem to be suspended in mid-water. Surprisingly, the hall was empty save for a maid, and K'hai made sure to send her off to find her mistress. As she flustered away up the stairs in a flurry of sheer skirts, K'hai turned to Pitch and dropped her hood. Her sheer worry astounded him: Nothing had yet to frighten or concern her more deeply than the fate of The Reach.

She took s deep, steadying breath and stood up a little straighter. The face she wore now bore no argument and she looked ready to convince any to join her cause.

"Stay here" She said simply.

And with that, she strode off in the other direction across the hall, and without knocking, threw open the enormous pale doors to the audience chamber. Shamelessly, Pitch inched his way up to the doors as they swung closed again, wedging his toe between them so they did not close completely. Through the little slat, he could see K'hai marching across the hall in a way that sent maids and servants scurrying wordlessly before her. She made a neat turn and settled her arms in the small of her back, fists clenched.

Even with bare feet, he was helpless but to realize just how much of a Commander she was: It seemed little had changed in K'hai from the Rissian Battle-Maiden to the Guardian of Loss as she was today.

Pitch was not ready to stay behind closed doors though. He could feel shadows at the back of the hall: the only light came from a wide cascading fall of glowing water from behind the seats of the Council, so it was dark as night merely a few paces behind K'hai. He let the doors close silently and shifted through the shadows into the audience chamber.

The silence of the Council's collective disapproval weighted the air heavily. As soon as he had entered the hall, however, K'hai had begun her conscription:

"High Council of the city of _El'amra Brilhantê, _I seek your guidance. As I am sure you are aware, Her Highness the Princess has declared a state of preparation, with evidence of a Dark Tide soon to rise. I would have every man, woman and child who is willing and capable to don what armour they can find to hold the city against the oncoming Kraken-"

It was at that point that her calm but domineering speech was cut short. In the middle of the council table, sat in the grandest chair, was an immensely fat Atlantian man whose skin was so pale a white that he seemed almost transparent, like a gross sea slug that likely dwelled in the oceans this deep. He was completely devoid of hair, and his eyes were blind save for two shrewd black pupils. He leant forwards in his chair, the sea-wood creaking in protest as all his enormous weight shifted forwards. When he spoke, it was deathly cold and full of so much venom it was a wonder his plump lips did not drip with it:

"Ah, Miss Itirilmiş, it has been too long-"

K'hai dipped her chin slightly and looked at the fat man from under her brows in a way that had daggers shimmering in the air.

"Councillor Aik, it is a pleasure so see you so well fed in these lean times"

Councillor Aik's façade of sarcastic politeness dropped instantly. His voice quavered with pure anger now and he could barely get his words out, he was shuddering with so much rage.

"What do you want, Itirilmiş? My city is under no threat of Kraken: Hells, we have not seen a single hatchling of one for years!"

"My point exactly. They are so numerous in secrecy now so as to turn the water black with their massive bodies. Has the Princess not told you of her vision?"

He waved a fat webbed hand in dismissal.

"Of course I have. It is nothing but a young Ra'sa with strange feelings swimming her veins ever since the Prince of the J'siik realm has had himself buried between her thighs every day for a month-"

Quite suddenly, a tall, willowy figure of a woman strode through the glowing waters behind him and in a cool, light and highly amused voice asked:

"You say such rumours, Aik. Though you have had your own self between every maid's thighs for years prior to my marriage. Be thankful I have agreed to produce heirs for the realm at all"

Aik quivered beneath her words and shrank back. She strode quickly around the table and took her place directly in front of Aik, where the Regent always took their audiences from. As the light highlighted her from behind, Pitch could see why Aik was so quick to submit.

She was tall, even taller than K'hai, and much more willowy and slender. All her curves were small and delicate, flowing like lacy little waves one into the other. Her hair fell dead straight almost to the floor in bright teal bolts, and though her skin was icy white, there was such a sheen and glow of iridescence to it that made her shimmer with health and purity. Her bones were light and graceful, almost to the point of being gaunt, and this severe face still had something about it that seemed so kind so as to touch every grain of sand on the seabed with her benevolence. Her bright cerulean eyes met with K'hai's and her welcome was true and warm:

"Masika. It is a true joy in my heart to see you grace our city once again. It has been quiet without you"

Aik grumbled something along the lines of "Good job too" but was quickly cut off by a slow slicing motion of the High Princess's hand without her even turning round.

"Silence, Aik. I would not have our city razed to the seabed for want of your mindless chatter. Speak, Masika, and we shall listen with our hearts"

K'hai nodded deeply in thanks of the Princess's intervention and continued her…orders? Demands?

"I am aware of your recent visions of the Kraken attacks and I believe I have a name for this Dark Tide you have foreseen. It is called the Nothing, an infinite force that seeks to cancel out all existence in the universe until not even empty space remains. The universe will cease to be, and all will be Nothing. It is due to reach this world's galaxy in 3 month's time, but if we fight against it we can hope to defeat it in time to save countless other worlds as well as your own"

"What does that have to do with the Kraken?" Aik demanded, chewing a foul nail like a petulant child.

"The Nothing likely seeks to gain control of the Reach through the Kraken, it is possessing them and forcing them into war with this city and it's lands. For all the many years that _El'amra Brilhantê _has stood, the Kraken have not wanted to constantly attack its boundaries. Since nearly the dawn of your people, the Nothing has been taking hold of an otherwise peaceful race in the hopes of taking hold of the Reach. It is pure luck that the city has remained strong all this time, otherwise the Reach and this planet would have fallen to the Nothing years ago"

A round of surprised chatter passed around the hall as the other Councillors, who up until now had remained silence. Aik's frown was thunderous. Thankfully though, the Princess saw the opportunity and stepped forwards slightly, ready to ask of what would be necessary to defend her people and the countless others that remained beyond the Reach:

"Tell us, Masika, what must we do to combat the Nothing?"

K'hai took a breath and thought for a moment, thinking what the best way to protect the city would be.

"Call the city to arms. Address the people; tell them of the Dark Tide. Rally all the civilians willing and able to fight at the Eastern Gate. Make sure they only go to battle if they are sufficiently armoured. Send word to your Sirens that we may need their sweet words should a ceasefire be called, and have as many healers at hand as you can spare. Barricade the gates, shield the city and rouse the troops at their barracks. Send out messengers immediately to the other cities and the surrounding lands that if the Reach should fall, they need to either flee or fight. The Nothing will not stop until it is certain of complete control"

The Princess nodded wordlessly and barked out orders to guards who instantly stood to attention. She then took control of the situation and sent everyone scurrying to their posts, sending out orders and gathering her maids to her. Aik mopped his smooth brow tiredly and heaved himself to his feet, then waddled from the hall. _More bark than bite to that one then_, she thought.

When the hall was cleared, K'hai turned on the balls of her feet and addressed the shadows quite sharply:

"I thought I told you to stay _behind_ the doors"

The King stepped from the shadows and looked at the waterfall of glowing water.

"Didn't seem to make that much of a difference."

K'hai stepped up to him quite without warning, and he could see tears beginning to line the purple opals of her eyes. Her voice was low and tremulous with barely withheld anger and worry:

"I did _not_ return from the gates of the Dead just to see this city fall. You do not seem to understand just how much this tiny scrap of light counts in the universe's fate!"

He searched her eyes for but a moment, and at the exact second she started to break, he caught her in his arms and he buried his face in her loose hair, stroking it as he struggled to soothe the weeping warrior before him. She was not unbreakable. The tears that streamed freely down her grey skin seemed only to stoke her fears and worries further, but when he told her to not cry and that the city needed her she only shook her head and choked out:

"No…Emotions needs this…He needs to feed, be strong and become what he once was. I would feed my wolves off my own blood if I knew it would keep them alive"

And sure enough, Pitch could hear a tiny wolf's first howl even deep beneath the seas. The sound seemed to make K'hai strong again and she removed herself from his arms wordlessly, wiping tears from her face even as she made her way to the glowing curtain of water, parting it, moving through to whatever lay beyond.

When Pitch stumbled through the water which was unexpectedly burning hot, he turned down a shimmering corridor even as he heard K'hai giving her next orders:

"Fetch me my armour. The city is to go to war"

~0O0~

Within minutes, K'hai had somehow been plated up in dark black steel, the plates each coming to a sharp little point all the way down her belly and a helm with two horns that curved back over her head was settled on her brow. Might gauntlets of black steel and chainmail encircled her arms, and heavy boots of black metal shrouded her leg all the way to her knees. She wore loose pants of black mail, and her mighty blade was at her hip as always.

The sudden change made Pitch feel really quite naked.

As they had been shuffled back and forth from various posts, he and K'hai had ended up in the back rows of several mighty battalions, though K'hai was soon moving away through the gathering crowds of civilians towards the Eastern Gate. As the King struggled to meet her armoured stride, he heard the High Princess's voice echo out across the city, from the immensely high tower that made the huge palace seem like a child's toy:

"_People of El'amra Brilhantê, hear my cry! A force known as the Nothing seeks to raze our city to the seabed via our eternal enemies, the Kraken!"_

A mighty roar of rage from the amassed troops rallied around the empty buildings with their shutters drawn tight. The streets were all but empty now. He could hear tridents and spears being thumped against the ground, and a thousand thousand suits of mail rattling in readiness for war.

"_Today we fight like we will not see the dawn again! Hone your tridents, bear your armour and stand tall against this new darkness! Fight by my light, shout with my voice and we will keep the Reach against this foe!"_

The paths seemed to tremble with the force of the enraged Mer now, and the Princess's mighty war-cry pulsed out across the city, rattling slates from roofs and shaking windows. K'hai grinned like the wolf she was. _Now that is one hell of a battle-shout _she thought.

Pitch began to feel fear set into his heart. Only now did the scale of the oncoming discord begin to set in. He laid a hand on her armoured shoulder, bringing her to a halt between two empty husks of houses, the residents long since evacuated to safer reaches.

"K'hai…Will we win this fight?"

Her expression faltered, the light purple glow of her eyes from the shadow of her helm lessening slightly.

"How can we not? This is only the Dawn of the War, King, but perhaps not the End of the Battle"

And when she rounded the corner, all manner of men and women in oddments of Myrish armour roared and pumped their spears and K'hai's own war-cry reached high above them, its lion-like strains parrying the Princess's echo for echo.

_Gods preserve me_ Pitch thought dimly.

Like it or not, the Battle for the Reach had begun.

AN: Sorry I haven't been posting this for a while but long story short I am a lazy mofo and From Far Sands became more interesting and then I got Tumblr and yada yada yada I'm back now. Yippee. All you mortals rejoice etc etc. I'm back, I'm posting and this fic isn't quite dead.

Yet.

Reviews welcome,

Tigress in Da Room.


	36. Chapter 36: A Suspicious Alliance

A King's Queen: Chapter 35:

K'hai was in her element. She stalked back and forth, jogging her mighty blade in her hand, armour making clicks and rattles against the stone path as she paced.

"People of Atlantis, will you fight with me?"

"We stand tall against the dark!"

The united voices of the ragamuffin army were strong and bound as one, like worshippers in a church of some goddess of war.

"Will you draw your swords against our enemy?"

"Our blades are bright with our anger!"

"Will you spill your blood for this city?"

"We are loyal to the bone, Masika. Do with us what you will!"

"I would have you rise up in a mighty tide to slay the Kraken and scare the Nothing back to whatever hole it came from!"

"Show us, and our archer's aim will be keen!"

"It is done. We fight, bleed and cry as one. For Atlantis!

"FOR ATLANTIS!"

The huge tide of voices swept over the city, not as a war-cry, but the sheer volume and anger behind their words carried their intentions for miles around. K'hai grinned now, drunk on the thrill of the hunt. Her armour already seemed to shine wetly with black Kraken blood that it had forged with many years ago.

At this, the army formed up into neat rows, spacing each individual apart by touching their neighbour's right shoulder and moving away until only the tips of their fingers touched the next in the line. The movement was unanimous as the old legionnaires and younger cadet-hopefuls carried out a movement that had been drilled into their minds for years. They may be civilians, but all Mer are ultimately soldiers at heart and they were efficient in their ceremony.

The pomp and circumstance now over, K'hai turned and led her now silent army out into the waters that shimmered behind the bubble-wall of the city behind her, through the enormous stone gateway of Atlantis' Eastern Gate. As each row of soldiers filed out, they stopped and turned in the water as one, making the transformation into more fish-like beings, then beat their armoured tails as one and moved upwards and outwards into the sea, rank upon rank.

Pitch followed at some point during the middle of the rallying and managed to make the change without issue the second time around. He made his way to K'hai's side, noticing she had two banner-men on each side of her: one flew the banner of Atlantis with its crossed trident and sword and the other flew the banner of the Atlantian armies with its silhouette of a soldier with sword and shield crossed over his body.

The whole company was silent, but the thirst for battle seemed to whisper among them by itself. The King noticed how K'hai's breeches of mail had changed along with her body, now replaced by a lobster-scale plating of black steel all the way down her tail, with wide, flat plates protecting the silky skin of her sheer fins. Pitch's scales were armour enough though, and he wore no other protection save for a pair of borrowed gauntlets and a helm with a visor that refused to stay up on his head where he wanted it. The scythe of shadow-sand left glittering trails like oil in the water as they marched to face their enemy.

It was deathly quiet.

No sign was apparent of the oncoming Kraken and Pitch grew more suspicious by the minute.

After a while, they reached the perimeter of the city and formed up into one long line, each end joining up with the companies from the other Gates. They swayed in mid-water, waiting. A small group comprising of two more banner men and the High Princess of Atlantis made their way to where K'hai and Pitch had positioned themselves in front of the shield wall of soldiers. The Princess only wore a chest plate, helm and gauntlets up to her shoulders as well as sharp-clawed plate gloves, no armour on her tail. It was bolder than K'hai's, being mirrored silver to such a shine that it glowed. Small blue gems were set into the corner of each plate, and her trident was slim and elegant with three deathly points like skewers. Her teal-scaled tail and sheer fins seemed vulnerable, though the Princess seemed unconcerned by this. She took up guard next to K'hai, though there was an unspoken question that lay on all lips:

Where were they?

Even when the water above began to darken as night fell, the Kraken did not show. The men began to shuffle their spears nervously, getting shifty in impatience. K'hai swam up and down the silent lines, bellowing through the waters:

"Hold strong! They could arrive at any time!"

As told, the shield wall held, but no great army arrived. Yet one, blurry, dark shape began to form up out of the gloomy waters and as one, every armed man and woman had held their spear tighter and braced against the water behind them.

The shape grew bigger and bigger until a massive, single Kraken beat its tail back and forth slowly before them. It was something like an enormous lobster but much more menacing, with many hundreds of pairs of spiny legs and eyes that randomly covered the front of its head. Its sharp mangdibles clicked and nattered to themselves as the tentacles that made up the feeding parts of its mouth tied themselves in knots by reflex. The enormous body armoured like a woodlouse rippled as it kept its place in mid-water, though it made no move to attack.

For almost a minute, dead silence hung in the water.

K'hai boldly swam forwards into the face of the grotesque beast and asked of it:

"Are you here for war, Kraken, or are you merely a distraction? Either way we shall smite you where you swim!"

The Kraken dipped its head slightly and shook a little in what seemed to be amusement. A deep, rasping sort of voice then seemed to echo in all the soldier's minds at once: some of them clutched at their heads in confusion.

"Ah, you are the Masika of Atlantis. Greetings to you. I am A'lraak, General of the Kraken armies. Or at least, what remains of them"

K'hai was only slightly mollified, seemingly the only one not affected by the creature's telepathy.

"Explain"

"Observe your surroundings, Masika. If I was here for war, surely blood would taint the waters by now. No, I am here as an emissary. For all these years that Atlantis has not been under our attack, a bitter civil conflict has raged among us. I and the remainder of my armies are the ones that have broken free of the Darkness's control: Others still bound by it roam the seas alone, but they still pose a great threat. I am here to let you know, as unlikely as it seems, that we would form an alliance with the Atlantian armies and join you in your war. We are a peaceful people, and would share our lands with ours and fight with your soldiers to wipe out the last of the poisoned kind among us"

In the silence that ensued, the High Princess joined K'hai's side, her trident held in both hands.

"As much sense as your words make, A'lraak, how can we be sure you are not luring us in? Show us your forces and then perhaps I will decide whether to forge an alliance with an army we have been warring against since time's dawn"

A'lraak turned his massive body and let forth a series of strange, pulsing whistles into the water that sounded like growling whale-song. It was quite melodious for such a vicious looking creature. More grey shapes appeared from the waters and joined their General's side in twos and threes, raggedy little ranks until the city of Atlantis was circled in two rings: the Atlantian shield-wall and the Kraken envoys.

Still no move was made to attack.

K'hai turned slowly in the water, a look of wonderment on her face. The High Princess was smiling; perhaps she had known all along that there would be no true war from the Krakens. After a few minutes of intense debate within her mind, K'hai turned to A'lraak and crossed her sword across her body, bowing slightly.

"We will fight with you" She said simply.

And to her surprise, a mighty cry of jubilation went up from the Atlantian armies: tridents and spears and swords all lifted up as one into the water and dying sunlight flashed off the plates and mail of a thousand thousand soldiers making plain their approval. In amongst all the chaos and to only the King's notice, the High Princess made her way to the Commander of the Eastern Gate company, and whispered in her ear. K'hai grinned. Together, they stood side by side, and their war-cry bound together as one to such a volume that it echoed through all of Earth's seas:

"_You cannot hide from us, cowards! We stand tall against your darkness, hone our blades in your shadow and shout and cry and die as one nation. We will find you, and we will destroy every single remnant of your forces. Flee before our armies and feel our rage as one great tide sweeping through this earth. Know this, Nothing: You dare to anger the Atlantians, the Krakens and now, you shall feel our might in every single heartbeat of every single soldier. Your reign is at an end: The Reach shall not fall!"_

The words of old Atlantian rippled out across the water darkly, and though Pitch did not entirely understand the phrases, the anger and rage and sheer desire for destruction behind the two women's words left him in no doubt as to what they intended to do with the treacherous Kraken who remained bound to the Nothing.

And as one, the soldiers of the armies beat their swords against their shields, getting faster and faster.

The city of Atlantis would not fall. The Reach would be safe.

K'hai had complete confidence in her bolstered ranks. So she looked out fondly over the roiling masses of soldiers stoked for battle and turned tail and headed towards the surface wordlessly.

Pitch followed.

It was done.

The battle for the Reach had been one without shedding a single drop of blood. Of course, the other Kraken would come, but what giant fears a single grain of rice flung against it?

AN: Awkward chapter is awkward. Hoping to liven things up between K'hai and Pitch in the next chapters, so you've got that to look forwards to :D

Reviews welcome,

Tigress in Da Room


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